The Accidental Groom
by Sunset
Summary: Sara and Grissom's wedding, and Griss is out of town. Nick steps in, and the minister uses the wrong name. Oops. Little GSR, more Snickers with YoBling thrown in too.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Wednesday 

Three days before the wedding

"What the hell do you mean you're leaving?"

Sara stood in the doorway of Grissom's bedroom staring at the suitcase lying open on the bed.

"It's just for a couple of days Sara," Grissom explained calmly as he reached into the closet and pulled out a shirt.

"A couple days? A couple days?" Sara was shocked. "The wedding is in a three days!" Her voice grew louder as she watched her fiancé tug the hanger out of the shirt collar. "Gil, I've spent months organizing the wedding, the reception. The menu is chosen, the flowers are ordered, the freakin' cake is being baked as we speak."

"We are not speaking…" Grissom stepped over to her. "You are yelling," he put calming hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged them off.

"You're damn right I'm yelling! I would have been fine with getting married by Elvis, but you wanted a real wedding, and that's what I've created for you, and now, you're not even going to be here!"

"Honey, calm down," Grissom tried again. "I'll be back the day before the ceremony, it's only Minnesota. It's not as if I'm flying to Russia."

"The Minnesota cops can just get themselves another entomologist."

"No, Sara, they can't."

"Well, then they can go fuc-"

"Sara," he tried to interrupt her.

"- themselves."

"Sara, there are very few entomologist's with crime scene experience, and the others have previous commitments."

"So do you!" Sara was still yelling.

"I'll be back the day before the wedding, I promise." And with that, he took another shirt out of the closet.

Thursday 

Two days before the wedding

"What the hell do you mean he's in Montana?" Catherine was shocked, and her voice was louder than she intended.

"Minnesota," Sara corrected quietly. "He's in Minnesota." She handed Catherine a mug of hot tea.

"What difference does it make?" Catherine had taken on the roll of mother-of-the-bride, helping Sara with the decisions and plans, and was fully aghast at the thought of Grissom leaving the state so close to the wedding.

Sara sank into the cushions of the sofa. She'd dipped into her abundance of vacation time, taking this week off for last minute preparation for the ceremony and the next week off for the honeymoon. She sighed heavily as she tucked her bare feet next to her.

"Well," Catherine began, trying to make the best of the situation. "At least he's not here getting in our way."

Sara looked over at her friend and smiled wanly. "What's on the schedule for today?"

"Your final fitting. We also have to get with the photographer, the florist and make a final run through with the caterer." Catherine consulted her to-do list.

"Jeeze…" Sara's eyes closed. "Cath, was your wedding to Eddie this much of a pain in the ass?"

Catherine grinned. "Actually, Eddie and I eloped." She laughed with the memory, "We ran away from Vegas to get married."

"Really?" Sara asked and sipped her tea, grateful for the possibility of a conversation topic other than her own impending wedding and her absent groom.

"Yeah," Catherine took a sip of tea before she continued. "My mom didn't like Eddie, and his mom didn't like me."

"Why didn't she like you?" Sara interrupted.

Catherine shrugged. "Probably because I was a stripper….and because I was pregnant."

Sara didn't say anything at the revelation and Catherine continued. "She thought I'd trapped her baby boy."

"Well…" Sara began, and could think of only one thing to say. "Screw her."

Catherine laughed, took a sip of tea, then glanced at the clock. "We've got to get a move on if we're gonna do all this today."

Friday night 

The night before the wedding

"I'm gonna kill him!" Sara paced the chapel hallway. "I'll be back the day before the wedding," she mocked Grissom's words. "Well, the day before the wedding has come and gone, and he's not back!"

"Sara," Catherine leaned up against the wall, trying to get Sara's attention.

"There are people waiting, Catherine! Waiting for a rehearsal, and a dinner, and he's not here!"

"Sara," Catherine tried again.

"What?" Sara finally stopped pacing and glared at Catherine.

"Your purse is ringing," Catherine said calmly.

"He had better be in a taxi on his way in from the airport," Sara threatened as she grabbed her purse and dug deep for the cell phone. "Where the HELL are you?" she screamed into the phone, her face growing tense and confused as she strained to listen to his answer, "Gil, I can barely hear you…" Catherine watched Sara's face grow redder as she began to pace again. "Snow?" Sara said, baffled.

Brass appeared in the doorway, having heard Sara's yelling.

"Snow?" Brass repeated as he sauntered over and stood next to Catherine.

"Doesn't sound like he's in Vegas, does it?" Catherine asked.

"Nope." Brass said simply.

"You son of a bitch!" Sara held the phone out, and stared at it unbelievingly for a long quiet moment before snapping it shut. She shook the phone toward Brass and Catherine. "He's still in Minnesota. Snowed in. Can you believe it? He's snowed in!"

"Okay, okay," Brass stepped up to Sara and put his hands on her shoulders, stepping easily into the roll of father-of-the-bride that he'd been assigned. He'd known for a long time now that if Ellie were to beat the odds and get married he wouldn't be invited, let alone asked to walk her down the aisle, so when Sara asked him to give her away, Brass had been flattered, and touched to the point of tears (the tears came later, at home, in the privacy of his shower, where no one could see, not even himself) In this moment of Sara's need, his fatherly instincts took over, and he stepped up, calming his temporary daughter. "Chances are, he'll be here in the morning," he soothed. Sara's eyes filled with tears and Brass produced a handkerchief from his pocket with the flourish of a magician headlining on the strip.

"And chances are good that he won't," Sara uttered over the wet frog in her throat and dabbed at the angry tears.

"We'll deal with that tomorrow." Brass lifted Sara's chin so that her eyes met his. "It's gonna be okay, I promise." His words were having the desired effect; Sara took a deep shuddering breath, beginning to calm down. "Okay?" he asked softly.

Sara nodded slowly, drying the last few offensive tears and gave him a small smile. "Okay…Let's get this rehearsal over with."

Catherine led the way in to the chapel.

Doc Robbins stood at the far end of the aisle, his appointed spot as the best man. Greg, Nick, and Warrick stood in a cluster on the other side, looking like the bridesmaids Sara secretly wished she had.

"Ok," Catherine held out her hands in a quieting, attention getting motion. "Grissom is stuck in Minnesota, snowed in." Nick and Warrick exchanged glances, each man's eyes saying 'we should have known'. If Catherine saw them, she didn't comment. "We're going to continue on without him." She glanced at the cluster the three CSI's had formed, evaluating. "Nicky," she choose, "you stand in for Gil."

Greg watched as Nick crossed the aisle and stood next to Doc Robbins, glad that he wasn't the one standing in front of a preacher, rehearsal wedding or not. "Greg," Catherine's voice broke through his thoughts. "Greg, go get the minister, would you please."

As Greg disappeared through the back door behind the pulpit, Warrick took a seat in the first pew. Catherine turned to Sara and Brass, standing behind her. "Ready?"

Sara lifted her chin determinedly and nodded. Brass held out the crook of his arm, and Sara thread her own arm thorough it. Catherine turned back to face the pulpit to find Greg settling himself in to the pew next to Warrick, and the minister standing at the ready.

"Okay," Catherine whispered to herself, "here we go." She walked slowly down the aisle, trying hard not to stare at Warrick as she did, and took her place to the left of where Sara would be in a moment, standing where Greg had been just moments before.

All eyes watched Sara and Brass coming down the aisle. When they reached the pulpit, the minister took the rehearsal over.

"Okay," he said. "Father of the bride will give the groom the brides hands." Brass did as he was instructed, Nick took Sara's hands. "And then he will step aside," Brass did, sitting as Warrick and Greg slid down the pew to make room.

"Okay," the mister said again, "As I've been told the bride and groom wish, this will be a simple ceremony, and we'll get right to the vows." The minister straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, his voice taking on an official tone. "Friends, we are gathered here, yada yada yada, for this man…" he looked at Nick questioningly.

"Uh, Nick, Nick Stokes," Nick introduced himself, and watched as the minister made a note in the book laid out in front of him.

"This man, takes this woman," he paused.

"Sara Sidle," Sara said before he glanced at her.

"As this man, and this woman take vows of marriage before God. Or something like that."

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Saturday 

The Day of the Wedding

Catherine opened her eyes with the sound of the alarm, and reached sleepily over, smacking the clock into silence. Tossing the covers off, she padded into the bathroom, then after a few moments, toward the kitchen. The television was on, and it wasn't the usual sounds of morning cartoons or MTV that Lindsay switched back and forth between each morning. Catherine had unconsciously begun keeping track of the amount of time each show was on, and the time with the cartoons was getting shorter and shorter. MTV was winning.

Catherine padded into the living room and found Sara sitting cross-legged on the sofa, her cell phone lying useless in her limp hands. Her head hung, defeated.

"Sar?" Catherine said quietly.

Sara lifted her head, errant strands of brunette hair hooked on to her eyelashes. "We're not supposed to get married," she said quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

Sara used the cell phone cupped in her hands to point toward the television, and Catherine turned her attention toward the screen for the first time. The Weather Channel was doing a segment on the freak snowstorm that had blanketed Minnesota.

"Fate doesn't want Gil and I married, Cath," Sara said quietly.

Catherine sat down on the sofa next to her friend and rubbed Sara's back. "What're you talking about?" she repeated, still not understanding.

"Fifteen years," Sara said simply as if that explained it all. "I've loved him for fifteen years. And Fate has been between us every step of the way." She was silent for a few moments, contemplating what it was she'd done that had pissed off Fate so much. Holding up the cell phone like it was the key piece of evidence for Catherine's inspection, Sara went on. "I can't even get him on the phone, the storm's so bad," she said weakly.

Catherine took a deep breath, contemplating her answer. "Have you ever heard of marriage by proxy, Sara?"

"Proxy?"

"Yeah," Catherine replied, pleased with the interest Sara showed. "Some one stands in for Gil—like Nick did at the rehearsal—but you're legally married to Grissom."

"Really?" Sara was perking up.

"Yeah, really. We'll fool Fate."

* * *

Nick stood at the end of the aisle next to Doc Robbins, wearing the black suit and bright emerald green tie Catherine had picked out for him, shuffling his feet nervously. 

Catherine emerged first, wearing a cocktail length sea green dress, holding a bouquet of daises and white roses. Despite her efforts, she could not tear her eyes away from Warrick the entire time she walked down the aisle.

The music swelled, and everyone in attendance stood. The doors at the end of the aisle swung open, and Nick felt his breath catch in his throat as he looked up and saw Sara standing there, in her simple but beautiful white wedding dress.

As Sara held tightly on to Brass' arm with one hand, a larger bouquet that matched Catherine's in the other. She didn't see Nick standing there, her mind allowed her to see Grissom. She saw Gil waiting for her as she'd seen him all those times she'd imagined this day. The more substantial Grissom became in her mind, the brighter Sara's smile grew.

As rehearsed, Brass handed Nick Sara's hands. With a peck to her cheek, and a whisper of good luck, he stepped aside, sitting down next to Warrick.

"Friends, family…" the mister began, "We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony."

In the audience, David Hodges let his attention wander. He looked around, taking note of the sly glances Catherine and Warrick exchanged, and the silly smiles each of them wore for the other. Hodges felt a pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

Behind Warrick, the other David, Doc Robbins assistant, pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. As Hodges watched, David glanced to the girl next to him and smiled. Pudgy but pretty, the blonde stared at David with stars in her eyes, and Hodges assumed she must be the finance David was always talking about, but heretofore had been unseen, and had been rumored to be imaginary.

To Hodges right, Wendy sniffled, and took the tissue her redheaded roommate offered. Hodges twitched an eyebrow as his eyes focused on the redhead's legs, and his thoughts drifted to that place he retreated to. The place where he, David Hodges, was irresistible to women. His fantasy of Wendy and the roommate had just begun when Wendy's fist crashed into his shoulder, jolting him back to reality. Hodges realized with a shake of his head that Wendy had caught him staring at her roommate's legs.

Quickly, Hodges moved his head, and he caught the eyes of Conrad Ecklie, sitting behind him and to the left just a bit. The assistant lab director narrowed his eyes at the lab tech and twitched his head toward the end of the aisle, ordering Hodges to keep his attention where it should be.

"Do you," the mister consulted his notes in front of him, "Nick, take Sara to be your lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"I do," Nick uttered with a bit of a tremor in his voice.

"And do you, Sara, take Nick, to have and to hold in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

"I do," Sara said somewhat dreamily, still picturing Grissom standing next to her. And it was Grissom, not Nick, in her minds eye, that turned to Doc Robbins, took the ring and slipped it on her finger.

In the pews, Hodges, who was once again paying attention, cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That which God has joined together, let no man put asunder," the minister began to wrap it up. "You may kiss the bride."

With a glance toward Catherine as to what he should do, Nick shrugged his shoulders, and leaned in, kissing Sara on the cheek.

All eyes were on Nick and Sara, and no one noticed the minister's baffled expression as he pronounced, "Ladies and Gentleman, I present Mr. and Mrs. Stokes."

Everyone that had known Grissom and Sara –with the exception of Hodges and Ecklie- had been waiting for this moment for so long that excitement had grabbed hold of all of them and the applause drowned out the ministers final words.

Catherine stepped up and hugged Sara tightly. Warrick stood and slapped Nick on the shoulder, although why he did, he wasn't sure. As the other attendee's gathered, offering hugs and congratulations, the minister stepped away from the pulpit and handed Nick a piece of paper, indicting with the pen the space in which Nick needed to sign. There was too much celebration noise for Nick to understand what the minister needed signed, and since he was sure the man wasn't trying to sell him a car, Nick signed without a second thought, and barely a second look and handed back the paper.

With lifted arms, the minister made his way through the throng of people, and repeated the process with Sara, and she signed next to Nick's scrawled signature, without really paying much attention to what it was she signed.

"Come on everyone," Warrick hollered above the noise "The reception's at Catherine's house—and she's stocked up on the good stuff!" A jovial cheer rose from the gathered crowd and they slowly made their way out of the chapel, piling into cars and headed to Catherine's.

* * *

Music played from the stereo Archie had brought over, keeping time with the clinking of glass as champagne flutes and beer bottles were raised in toast after toast. 

Sara tore herself away from the latest group she'd joined in her journey of mingling, and stealthily made her way into Catherine's bathroom for a few minutes of privacy.

Resting her hands on the counter, she hung her head for a moment, and then raised it slowly to look at herself in the mirror. It was a bittersweet day for Sara. She was finally married to the man she loved, and yet he wasn't there with her to join in the celebration.

She missed Grissom.

"Sara?" A voice called quietly from the other side of the closed door.

Sara closed her eyes to her reflection, mentally whispering goodbye to her stolen moment of seclusion. "Yes."

"Hey," Catherine cracked open the door and stuck her head in. "You ok?"

Sara smiled wanly at her friend. "I miss him, Catherine."

Catherine nodded her head knowingly. "I know you do." The older woman stepped into the bathroom and quickly hugged Sara. "It's all overwhelming, isn't it?"

Sara pulled out of the hug. "Just a bit, yes."

"It'll be over soon. Then you can go back to being cranky Sara Sid-…Grissom." Catherine corrected herself.

"Sara Grissom." Sara mused quietly, testing out her new name and held her left hand out, gazing at the diamond on her finger.

"Has a nice ring to it." Catherine said after a moment.

Sara smiled brightly. "Yes. Yes, it does."

With a tilt of her head toward the living room, Catherine chided "You ready to get back to being the bride?"

"Yeah. Hey Cath, have you seen Nicky? I haven't had the chance to thank him properly."

The two women made their way toward the living room, and as they passed the front door, a car pulling up outside caught Catherine's eye and she stopped to look. She assumed it was someone from the lab, arriving to the party late after working a full shift.

She was partly right.

Gil Grissom emerged from the back seat of the car looking that special kind of tired and disheveled that a person gets after a very, very long car ride.

"Hey," Catherine got Sara's attention. "Your husbands here."

"Gil?" Sara pressed her palms up against the glass and gazed out to the walkway. "Gil!" She called out louder and threw open the door running out and jumping into the arms of the man she loved, kissing him passionately.

A moment later, Sara remembered she was mad at him. "You're late" she said sternly.

"We hit traffic in Denver."

"You… you drove?" her mouth fell open with the thought.

"Took a cab actually," Grissom turned to find his driver standing a few feet from them, looking at his shuffling feet, embarrassed by this proximity to their intimate moment. "Meet Mike."

"Mike? The cab driver?" Sara took a moment to run the possibilities of how much a cab would cost from St Paul to Las Vegas.

"He's tired and hungry. I told him he could come in for the reception." Grissom explained.

"Of course, of course." Sara was happy again, the reality of Grissom finally being with her lifting her from her melancholy. She beckoned to Mike with one hand as she took Grissom's arm with the other. "Come on Mike, there's plenty of food."

Catherine watched from inside, and as she saw Grissom and Sara start up the sidewalk she silenced the party with the voice she'd learned in her former profession, with a dash of CSI supervisor thrown in. "Hey, everyone!" An unsteady silence fell as everyone turned to her. She checked over her shoulder, making sure her timing was just right. "Ladies and Gentleman, I present…Mr. and Mrs. Grissom!"

Loud applause broke out, with a few hoots and catcalls interjected as the bride and bona-fide groom came through the door, grinning like fools.

The well-wishers allowed Sara and Grissom to reach almost the center of the living room before they swooped in with another round of hugs and congratulatory slaps to Grissom's back. Mike, the cab driver, hung back near the door, squeezing his baseball cap in his hands.

Hodges emerged from the kitchen, a refreshed glass of champagne in his hand, wondering what the commotion was all about. He sipped the bubbly as he took in the scene, his eyes grazing over the crowd before he saw the epicenter of the ruckus, the bride and the nomadic Grissom. _Ah,_ Hodges thought to himself and drained his glass, _the plot thickens_. He sauntered toward the happy twosome. He wanted to be in the thick of things when the news broke, or even better, be the one to deliver the news himself.

* * *

_TBC... THANK YOU for all the wonderful reviews! Keep 'em comin'!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The party was in full swing as the sun went down. The cake had been cut without the usual fan fare of grinding the piece in each other's face. Grissom refrained because he knew he was already in the doghouse, and didn't want to piss Sara off even more. And although Sara did feel like playfully squashing cake into Gil's face, she knew Grissom had to remain the boss in the eyes of everyone gathered. A beard full of French vanilla icing wouldn't do.

"Congratulations," said a leggy redhead as Grissom speared a piece of cake onto his fork.

"Thank you," Grissom answered amiably. "Do I know you?"

The woman laughed. "No," she held out her hand, and Grissom balanced his cake plate on top of his drink and took her offered hand. "I'm Julie, Wendy's roommate."

"Gil Grissom. Are you having a good time?"

"Oh yeah!" Julie said with enthusiasm, "I love meeting everyone Wendy's been telling me about, putting faces with names."

Grissom nodded his understanding.

"For instance," Julie went on, "Hodges. I thought Wendy was making him up!" Julie threw her head back and laughed.

On the other side of the room, Greg turned at the sound of her laughter, watching as Julies long hair fell across her back.

"Pretty girl," Brass said from his elbow.

Greg jumped at the sound of his voice. "Hey, Capitan. What's up?"

Brass shrugged his answer. "Want an introduction?"

"The redhead?" Greg turned to look at Julie again. "Nah, thanks anyway. Weddings aren't such a great place to meet chicks. They've got marriage on their minds."

Brass smiled softly.

* * *

"Hey," Warrick snuck up behind Catherine. "How ya doing?"

"I'm happy," she told him glancing over her shoulder.

"Yeah?" He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to him, her back against his chest.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "The wedding went off without a hitch," she felt his head twitch against her shoulder and knew that if she could see his face, he'd be wearing an expression of utter incredulousness. "Well, okay," she confessed "there was a tiny hitch, but we got through it. And now Grissom is here, and your arms are around me, all is right with the world."

"Aw," Warrick said and lightly kissed her cheek. "When do you think these people will be leaving?"

"You in a hurry to get somewhere?" Catherine asked, teasing.

"Not at all," he pulled her impossibly closer, "waiting to be alone with you."

Catherine chuckled low in her throat. "Can't wait."

"Hey, Moms," Lindsay walked up from behind them.

"Hey, Sweetheart," Catherine put a hand on top of the teenager's head.

"Hey, Linds, you having a good time?" Warrick asked.

"Fo' shizzle**," **Lindsay uttered and sipped her soda as she found something more intresting in the middle of the party and walked away.

Catherine watched her daugher for a moment before turning her head slighly and catching Warrick's eye. "What'd she say?"

Warrick laughed. "She said 'for sure'.'

Caterine shook her head slightly. "I'm getting' old."

* * *

"Hey, Nick," Sara walked up to her co-worker, and groom for an hour.

"Hey, Sara," Nick kissed her temple. "Congratulations, again."

"You know, I didn't get the chance to thank you for standing in for Grissom." She reached out and put her hand on his forearm. "It really meant the world to us."

Nick waved if off, her hand slipping off his arm. "It was nothing Sara, really."

"No it wasn't _nothing_ Nicky, we really—"

"Sara," Nick cut her off a bit more sternly than he'd intended. "Really, it's ok, don't mention it." His stance changed, and Sara didn't know why, but she did know she needed to change the subject.

"So, ah—Did you meet Julie?"

"Julie?" Nick asked her, his tone returning to normal.

"Wendy's roommate. The redhead." Sara's eyes searched the room and found Julie standing next to Grissom. "Over there." Sara poked a good-natured elbow into his ribs. "Want me to introduce you?"

"Ah, no. Thanks anyway," Nick slipped into the ladies-man role Sara hadn't seen him wear for years "I'll, ah, I'll go introduce myself." He put a light hand on her arm, as a goodbye, and began to make his way through the crowd.

About half way across the room, Nick turned to see if Sara was watching. She wasn't. David and his finance had captured her attention. Immediately, Nick changed course, heading away from Grissom and the redheaded Julie and stepped through the back patio door, going outside for some fresh air.

A swing set he and Warrick had assembled for Lindsay years ago sat looking lonely in the well-kept backyard. With the muted sounds of the party steaming to him from inside the house, Nick walked over to the swing set, grabbing hold of one of the supports, giving it an easy tug, testing it's stability, his own craftsmanship. He sat down on the swing, the heels of his polished shoes scuffing in the dirt, and let the swing move him gently. A burst of laughter came from the party, and Nick wished like hell he could be as happy for Sara and Grissom as everyone else was

* * *

"Excuse me," Mike the cab driver tapped Greg on the shoulder.

Greg cocked an eyebrow. "Hi."

"Uh, hello. Tell me, are you Greg?"

"Yes," Greg answered hesitantly.

The driver put out his hand, and Greg took it out of habit. Shaking Greg's hand for all it was worth, Mike smiled brightly. "Great job on the Sherlock thing, really, very great."

Greg was perplexed. "How'd you…"

"He told me," Mike pointed across the room to Grissom. "He told me about all of you."

"Really?" Greg's chest swelled with pride.

"It's a sign of the good stuff when the cork is hard to remove," Julie said as she watched Wendy struggle with the champagne.

"Yeah." Wendy gritted her teeth and struggled with the cork puller. "Cath really outdid herself."

"You ladies need some help with that?" Hodges sauntered up, smiling with what he thought was a teasing grin. To the women, it merely looked smarmy.

"No. Thank you, Hodges," Wendy uttered through her clenched teeth and groaned, as the cork remained firmly snuggled in the bottleneck.

"Come on now," Hodges took the bottle from Wendy's hands. "This is a man's job."

"Really?" Wendy answered. "Are you gonna send out for one?"

Julie barked out a hearty laugh before she put her fingers to her lips, trying but failing to cover her smile.

* * *

"I think Grissom is fading quickly," Catherine told Warrick with a nod toward their boss.

"Who can blame him? He's had a long few days." Warrick's arm slipped easily around her waist, his hand resting on her hip. "Not to mention the shock of being married."

"Shock?" Catherine moved, turning toward him. His hand slipped off of her.

"Well…" Warrick began, quickly backtracking. "I mean, you know, for Grissom…been single for so long, not even a girlfriend…being suddenly married might come as a shock."

"Uh-huh," Catherine said slowly, deciding to give Warrick a break. A silly fight with him would only result in an increase of the physical frustration mounting in her, while what she sought—needed—was a release from it.

"What's say we clear this party … then get the party started?" Warrick asked slowly, drawing out the words.

"Okay everyone," Catherine moved quickly lifting her arms, getting everyone's attention. "The Grissom's have a wedding night to get to," she paused letting the hoots and hollers rise and fall, like a breath. "So," Catherine began again, "one last toast, then, everyone out. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

Laughter and chuckles followed her last comment. As everyone gathered around, the graveyard shift gravitated toward the middle of the room, surrounded by everyone else. The last of the champagne was passed around, everyone refilling glasses for the last toast. "Who gets the honors?" Julie called out.

"I'd like to propose that toast." Hodges pushed his way through the crowd, and invaded the small center group. Holding up his glass, he basked in the spotlight. "To Sara, and her new husband. Nick Stokes."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Sara choked on her champagne.

Grissom frowned, his brow furrowed.

Nick's mouth fell open.

"Hodges, you son of a—" Catherine took a step forward, her arm already pulling back, ready to punch.

"What the hell?" Warrick's words overlapped Catherine's as he grabbed her shoulders pulling her back. The last thing they needed to do tonight was work the scene of Hodges murder.

Besides, there were too many witnesses.

Hodges held up a hand. "Hear me out." He paused, his eyes darting back and forth. "Sara," he began his rehearsed speech. "Did you, or did you not say Nick's name at the alter, taking _him_ as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"No, I—"

"Sara," Nick stopped her. His eyes took on a distant look as he thought back, straining to remember. "I—I think he might be right."

Sara whipped around. "What?"

Nick had everyone's attention. "I think you did say my name, not Grissom's."

"Well, that shouldn't—"

"And," Hodges interrupted her "I believe you both signed the marriage license? And I'm sure that Stokes being the upright, law-abiding citizen that he is, didn't forge Grissom's name on a legal document. Did you?"

Nick stared at the floor. And slowly shook his head.

"Well, then." Hodges said, enjoying his moment to the fullest. "I believe in the eyes of the law—and the eyes of God—the two of you …are man and wife."

Sara turned to Grissom and clutched his arm. "Gil, we didn't…I mean…. We couldn't have…" she looked to Nick for help. "Could we?"

"Yeah, Sara." Nick's eyes lifted from the floor and met hers. "I think we did."

"So much for anti-stupid." Greg muttered quietly.

The party dwindled quickly, as they will do when the reason for the party no longer exists. Catherine handed out the coats at the front door, saying goodbye, and reassuring some of the more upset guests.

Hodges was the last to leave, lingering, watching the effects of his announcement.

Catherine stood by the open door; one arm snaked up above her head, resting on the edge of the door. She pointed outside with her other hand, looking Hodges directly in the eye. "Get the hell out."

Hodges gave her a hurt look, and Catherine straightened her shoulders, wondering what the hell Hodges had going on in his head. The nerve he had, the gall to look hurt after what he did.

Slowly the lab tech stepped toward the open door. He paused when he reached Catherine's side. "I was only…"

"Shut up." Catherine hissed and tilted head toward the outside.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, Catherine gave the door a push, and it crashed closed letting Hodges know it was closed for good. _Good riddance_, she thought. As she turned around, she surveyed the situation in her living room.

Discarded glasses sat all over, some in remarkable places. A week from now, Catherine would find the final one lying on its side in the leaves of a large potted plant next to her sofa's end table. Some empty, some partly full with abandoned champagne, left in the glass after the drinker heard Hodges' revelation and realized there was nothing left to celebrate.

Catherine's eyes traveled from the glasses to the people in the room. All were alone within themselves, mulling over this new twist in their lives. They were all just as abandoned as the glasses.

Expect for Sara's occasional hiccup from where she sat on the couch, flanked on either side by Grissom and Brass, their whispers low, the house was silent.

Greg stood leaning against the bar, contemplating the bottom of his beer bottle.

Nick was in one of the folding chairs, elbows on his spread knees, his head hung low.

Warrick stood in the entry to the kitchen, and as their eyes locked, a shiver ran up her spine; he'd been watching her for a while before she'd realized it.

Catherine was at a loss as to what to do next. She'd always been the strong one. She might call herself Grissom's right hand, but in truth, she thought herself more his backbone. Mother to his father. Not that she thought of any of these people as children, far from it. They were in fact, older than most people she knew. Aged in the knowledge of human frailty. Parents kill their children. Lover's quarrels turn to murder quickly. Strangers slay strangers over spilled coffee or stolen parking spaces. They'd all seen so much. Fought like hell to keep the scientists detachment, a privilege that sometimes evaded their capacity. And now here they were, tangled up in a mess that was usually a prologue to a crime scene.

Her hands twitched with the need to start cleaning up, the need to do _something _that would put the world back into some kind of order. But beginning the clean up would put unnecessary pressure on her friends to leave. She didn't want that. Instead of gathering the party debris, Cath walked over to Warrick, commanding her feet to only walk and not run to him. She pressed herself to him, his arms gently folding over her in a comforting life affirming embrace.

Nick stared at his feet; listening to the whispered sounds coming from the two men he admired most, after his own father. He listened intently, with his heart beating hard in his chest, as they discussed his marriage.

He was married.

To Sara.

With his head still bent low, Nick smiled.

Sara wasn't listening to the two men as they talked to each other, forming a battle plan. She was deep in thought. Thinking about dead bodies, long distances, Ecklie's rules. Fate. Everything that had kept her and Grissom apart year after year. And now, a misspoken name. Sara felt like a character in one of the historical romance novels she kept secretly hidden underneath her mattress, driven to heartache after heartache by the unseen writers' typing fingers. She'd always held to the belief that the moments of joy in a life were purchased by equal moments of despair. Sara had believed that her despair had stock piled like so many vacation hours. But now, as she sat sinking into Catherine's sofa cushions, her faux father on one side of her, her husband… fiancée …Sara didn't know what to call him anymore, on the other. She gave up her belief that bad comes with good. The silver lining faded before her unfocused eyes.

"I'll get a detective to find the minister," Brass told Grissom.

Grissom nodded. "Right. Let's make sure Hodges is correct before we start jumping to conclusions."

Brass stood up from the couch and reached out putting a hand on Sara's shoulder. She looked up at him. "Don't worry," he told her. "We'll get to the bottom of this."

Grissom stood up and held out his hand. "Thanks Jim."

Brass smiled softly. "You know, the two of you still have the week off, you shouldn't let this stop you from going on your honeymoon."

Grissom paled. "Honeymoon?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Sara closed her eyes as if praying for strength.

Brass stared at Grissom disbelieving. "You forgot to plan the honeymoon?"

Greg let out a low whistle.

Nick looked up and watched as Sara seemed to deflate.

Grissom's mouth opened to explain, glancing down at Sara.

She shook her head and held up both her hands, giving up. "You know what? It's ok, really. Perfect topper to the day." She stood up from the couch and stepped out from between the two men, hurrying down the hall to the bedroom she'd spent the previous night in, slamming the door behind her.

In the living room, Brass could only stare at Grissom and shake his head sadly.

Sara slipped out of her wedding dress, letting it lie in a heap at her feet. She grabbed her overnight bag and pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Grabbing her purse and bag, she headed back out into the living room, leaving the dress on the floor.

She nearly knocked Grissom down at the end of the hall, as he started down toward the bedroom. "Leave me alone Gil."

"No Sara. We need to talk about this."

"Okay," Sara folded her arms across her chest, the overnight bag bumping her hip. "Where should we start? How 'bout how you were so busy with your _bugs_ that you forgot our honeymoon? Or maybe the idea of spending a week alone with me repulses you?" She cocked an eyebrow, baiting him.

Grissom flinched at her accusation, his face reflecting the pain at her words.

Sara was glad. And ashamed.

"Sara…" he began, but didn't know what to say to make the situation better.

She gave him a moment, wanting to see what excuse he would come up with. "Gil, just get out of my way. Please."

Reluctantly, he did. Taking a step backward, he gave her enough room to get to the front door and leave.

Sara nearly ran to her car and sped quickly away.

"Sara!" Nick called after her, reaching the door just in time to see her car back down the driveway. He turned to Grissom. "Go after her!"

Grissom shook his head. "She needs to be alone when she gets like this. We all know that Nicky."

Nick bristled at the nickname and looked to Catherine. She shook her head slightly. Nicks eyes slid over to Warrick, and watched as the other man's brow furrowed just slightly. The look exchanged told Nick all he needed to know. _Go after her._

Straightening his shoulders, Nick glanced back to Catherine, "I'll come back before shift tomorrow, help you clean up." He said that in hopes that it would throw Grissom off, that it wouldn't be apparent he was leaving to find Sara.

--

Nick had been secretly pleased when Sara had told him she was keeping her apartment until after the wedding, but now it only added to the number of places she might be.

He pulled his truck in the apartment complex parking lot, knowing in his gut she wouldn't be there. Sara would expect Grissom to follow her, and that would be the first place he'd go, just as it was the first place Nick had gone. With a sigh, he pulled up toward her empty parking space then turned his truck around back toward the exit with a large u-turn.

Driving down the strip, he sorted through the possibilities of where she might have gone. Grissom's house was out of the question, as was the lab. She might have headed back to Catherine's, parked down the block until she saw Grissom leave…. Nick shook his head. That was unlikely.

Stopped at a traffic light, he drummed his fingers on the dashboard racking his brain. Where did Sara go when she needed to be alone? The light changed, and the green glow was like the proverbial light bulb. Suddenly, he just knew.

Quickly checking the side view mirror, he turned the wheel hard, cutting off oncoming traffic. Horns blared like a symphony, and out of the corner of his eye he saw more than one driver flip him the bird. It didn't matter, he knew where Sara was. Nick steered the truck toward the highway, and the desert beyond.

--

"You had better kiss the ground she walks on when she comes home." Brass said from behind the wheel of his Taurus as he pulled to a stop behind a VW. He glanced over to Grissom in the passenger seat. "_If_ she comes home."

"She'll come back when she's settled down," Grissom muttered, as if he was speaking of a temperamental child. He stared out the window watching the Bellagio fountains.

Horns blared up the block, and always the cop, Brass strained forward just in time to see a dark colored SUV turn left from the wrong lane, cutting off traffic. As the truck tore down a side street Brass shook his head slightly. _And people wonder why there are so many accidents _he thought. To Grissom, he said; "Yeah. You're probably right, she will be back. But I'll tell you this; you'd better stay awake. If she comes home and finds you asleep, you're a dead man."

--

Catherine picked up a plastic champagne glass from the coffee table and shoved it into a trash bag, all the while muttering fiercely under her breath.

At the bar, Greg looked over his shoulder toward Catherine as he slipped two empty beer bottles in to the trash bag in Warrick's hands. "What'd she say?"

Warrick looked at Greg for a moment before answering. "I don't know man, why don't you ask her?"

Greg cocked an eyebrow and looked at Catherine again, as he considered the proposition. After another muttering from Catherine, Greg shook his head. "Nope."

Warrick nodded. "You go ahead and head home, man."

"Yeah," Greg rubbed his hands together. "That's probably a good idea." He slipped his suit jacket off the back of the chair and shrugged into it. "Uh, Cath… It was a great party, very memorable."

Catherine stopped muttering and looked at him. "Gee, thanks Greg. Maybe I can do the same for you someday." Her smile was way to sweet and obviously fake.

Greg looked shocked. "Umm…yeah…okay. Well, goodnight." He slipped out the door while he still could.

"You could have taken it easier on him, it's not as if any of us have been through anything like this before."

Catherine let the bag fall from her hands, and fell on to the sofa, putting her feet up on the coffee table. "Where do you think she is?"

"Sara?" Warrick ambled over and sat down next to her, pulling her closer to him. "Who knows?"

"Hopefully Nick does," Catherine whispered and laid her head down on Warrick's shoulder.

--

Nick slowed his truck and turned off the highway. Leaning into the steering wheel, he stared out the windshield, hoping he'd remembered correctly. It'd been over a year since Sara had brought him out here, and he hadn't exactly been paying attention while she drove.

"_Hey," Sara touched his shoulder, getting his attention. "We're here."_

_Nick was staring out the window and blinked at the sound of her voice. There was nothing but blackness outside the car, but he could make out the shadow of the small mountain she'd parked next to. He turned to her in the drivers seat. "Where's here?" _

_Instead of answering him, she smiled gently and cocked her head. "Come on." She slid out of the truck. _

_He could hear her boots crunch in the earth as he watched her make her way to the front of her car. She stopped near the middle of the hood, illuminated by the headlights. She waved a beckoning hand to him before she turned and started climbing up the mountain._

"_Sara!" he called to her as he got out of the car._

"_Come on, Nick," she called down to him._

_He followed her up. She seemed to know exactly where the foot and handholds were, and Nick used the same ones she did pulling himself up to the edge just seconds after she did._

_He was awestruck at what awaited them. _

_The desert sky stretched out before them, in shades of blue and black that Nick hadn't known existed. Stars that couldn't be seen from the city streets shone brightly, and the moon hung so large and so low, Nick felt like he could touch it._

"_Oh…" was all he could say._

_Sara smiled brightly. "I know. I found this place almost by accident." She was silent for a few moments, letting Nick take it all in. He was absorbed by the night sky, his face radiant. _

"_I come here when I need some peace from the world," she said as she stepped over to the edge and sat down. _

"_Yeah?" Nick said, sitting down next to her._

_"After we found you…and we knew you were going to be ok…" she paused, staring out at the sky. Nick watched her face, an outlined shadow against the backdrop of stars. "I came here. I came here and thanked God for you." She turned her face back to him, the moonlight reflecting the tears in her eyes. "I don't know what I would have done if we'd lost you."_

_And it was that moment that Nick knew he loved her._

Nick's heart jumped when he saw Sara's car in the distance, she'd left the headlights on, the only signs of life for miles around.

He angled his truck next to her car and cut the engine. Sitting behind the wheel, he stared up at the crest of the mountain, barely visible in the darkness. Sara was up there. His wife. She may not have intended to marry him, but some_one_ or some_thing_ had interfered, and Nick wasn't about to let this pass by.

He got out of the car, and started climbing up the side of the mountain. It'd been easier the year before, when he had Sara to follow, but he scrambled up the side and pulled himself over the edge.

Sara was sitting in nearly the same place she'd been before. Her knees pulled up to her chest. She didn't look over as he dusted off his pants, and for a moment, he wondered if it was possible she hadn't heard him.

"When I heard you pull up," Sara said quietly, startling him. "I thought you might be Grissom..." She looked over at him, in the moonlight he saw she'd been crying. "Silly me."

"He went to your apartment to look for you," Nick lied. Making Grissom appear the worried carrying husband…boyfriend… whatever wasn't in his plans, but making Sara feel better was.

Sara wanted to believe him, but didn't, and shrugged off the fib.

Nick walked slowly over and sat down next to her.

"Hell of a day," Sara said, looking at the stars.

"I kind of enjoyed it."

Sara looked at him as if he'd suddenly gone insane in front of her eyes.

Nick laughed at her expression. "I mean it," he explained. "I did have fun."

"I suppose you did. You didn't end up married to the wrong man." She looked away from him, and didn't see the hurt expression cross quickly over his face.

The moment was at hand, and Nick could feel his heart beating hard enough to burst from his chest. He swallowed hard "Maybe you're not married to the wrong man," he said before he could change his mind.

She turned back to him. "What?" she asked quietly.

"I love you Sara," Nick said and leaned in and kissed her.

* * *

_A/N: Ok, is that the moment ya'll have been waiting for? Just you wait till the next chapter. And the one after that! _

_Thank you for all the **wonderful **reviews, and if you're enjoying the story and haven't left one yet, come on andlet me hear from you! Major props to AlwaysWrite for the beta, and being a sounding board. T__he story wouldn't be as good if not for her. _


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Nicks kiss was so different than Grissom's.

Grissom's beard always scratched her cheek while Nick's skin was smooth against hers. Gil always had the faint antiseptic taste of toothpaste, Nick tasted of warm champagne

Nick was wild abandon; a southern sun that warmed her stomach and sent chills up her spine. She felt consumed by him, wholly possessed like she never had been before. Gil always felt like he was holding something back from her, or kissing her only because she wanted to be kissed, not because he thought he would die if he didn't.

And to her surprise, Sara felt her self responding.

--

Grissom rubbed his wet hair with a towel as he padded into the kitchen. Letting the damp towel lay on his shoulder as he poured fresh water into the coffee maker, he scooped in fresh grounds. Leaning against the counter waiting for the coffee, Grissom thought about the past thirty-six hours.

He'd left the hotel at one in the afternoon for a three pm flight. After sitting on an immobile plane for two hours, the airline decided to deplane the uncomfortable, increasingly irritable passengers. The next hour he spent on the phone, trying to find a signal clear enough to call Sara.

With her voice calling him a son of a bitch ringing in his ears over and over again, Grissom tried twelve cab companies before finding Mike, the only cab driver willing to drive to Vegas.

At first, Grissom tried to read, sitting in the back of the cab, but the fading light of the already cloud covered setting sun made that impossible. So he talked. For hours he talked. He told Mike all about the wedding plans, all about Sara, about all the CSI's. Which lead to a discussion about Grissom's work. Mike was very interested in the cases, finding the Sherlock Holmes one especially intriguing.

It was probably illegal, but Grissom even took his turn driving, letting Mike sleep for a few hours somewhere around Denver. Grissom did his best to keep to the speed limit, but his foot kept pushing down on the accelerator in his rush to get home to Sara.

The coffee maker gurgled with the last of the coffee, pulling Grissom out of his trance. He poured himself a cup, forgoing his usual cream and sugar. Sara had wanted him to cut back on the sugar anyway.

Sara.

'_If she comes home'_ Brass's words echoed in his head. Sara's smiling face floated before his eyes, and Grissom felt a tinge of something in his stomach he hadn't felt in a very long time. Fear.

He should have gone after her; he knew that now.

Settling himself into the armchair, he looked at the sofa with longing, but knew he was too tired to be comfortable. He picked up a well-written, fascinating entomology book he owned, hoping it would grab his interest and keep him awake until Sara came home.

He was asleep before he turned the first page.

--

Warrick snuggled into the pillow, pulling the sheet up over him and slipping into a peaceful sleep. He was just beginning to enjoy a pleasant dream, when Catherine punched him in the shoulder. Hard.He sat bolt upright in bed, ready to do battle with an intruder, be it masked human or eight-legged spider. Blinking, he cleared his head and looked around the room. After a moment, he turned his head, looking down at her. "What was that for?""I can't sleep," she told him. "And if I can't, you can't." He lay back down and rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. He studied her closely with narrowed eyes, while she avoided his gaze by seeming to find the ceiling suddenly interesting. "I'm worried," she confessed quietly.

"About?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nick," Catherine whispered their friend's name as if saying it any louder would pull a trigger, transforming her horrible thoughts into reality."He's a big boy; he can take care of himself," Warrick soothed her as best as his sleepy mood would let him.

"I'm worried about Sara," Catherine changed her tactic.

With a deep sigh, Warrick gave in. He had to admit, he was worried about Sara too. "Yeah, me too."

"What should we do?" She asked him.

"There's nothing we can do."

Catherine let out a frustrated groan. Warrick laughed and reached over, tucking a few errant strands of her hair behind her ear. "So," he said chuckling "What are we going to do while we're not sleeping together?"

--

Reluctantly, Sara broke the kiss. She kept her eyes closed, frightened of what she might see in Nicks expression. And even more terrified of what he might see in hers. "Well," she said with a breathy voice, finally opening her eyes. "That doesn't make things more complicated at all."

"Sara," Nick whispered, worried that if he spoke any louder he would frighten her off. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, and he felt them all building up; unspoken words like unshed tears threatening to overflow and spill out in an incomprehensible rush.

She shushed him with a fingertip to his lips. "I, ah…" she stood as she struggled to find the words. "I need some time to think about this." She moved to lower herself down the slope.

"Sara," Nick called her name, stopping her. "I would have taken you to Hawaii."

She stared at him for a long moment, licking her lips, and tasting him there.

Nick wasn't about to let the opportunity of her pause go by. He scrambled quickly to his feet. His gaze found hers, and he saw her eyes were shining with hope and her hands were hanging at her side, fingers drumming out a nervous beat on her thighs.

His heart was beating so hard, anyone would have thought he was running at full tilt, instead of the slow pace he used to approach her, letting both their anticipations grow. Purposely taking agonizingly slow steps, it seemed to take forever to reach her side, but when he did, he stared in her eyes. She stared back, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard and challenged him with her eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched with a confined grin and he stepped even closer to her, taking her face in his hands. Moving in slowly, he kissed her fervently; with all the passion and desire he'd kept pent up for the last year.

Sara had always wanted to be kissed just like this. She gave in to it, letting go of all her reluctance and hesitancy. Nick was no longer a guy she worked with, a neutral almost brother, in her arms, next to her, he blossomed into a man of desires and passions, and she felt herself being swept away.

She broke the kiss before she wanted more than was right to ask of him right now. Thoughts of Grissom invaded her mind, and forced her step away from Nick.

"Sara," Nick said her name softly, and she tried not to see the hurt in his eyes.

"Nick, I ah…" she didn't know what to say. So many thoughts and feelings raced through her head jumbling around and on top of one another. "I have to go," she finally said and quietly glided down the side of the hill before he could stop her.

* * *

a/n: Thank you everyone for all the reviews. They warm my heart. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Nick listened as the engine of Sara's car fired up and drove away. Standing there he heard the sound of the engine fade as she drove off into the distance.

After a few moments, he sat down, tracing small circles in the dirt with a finger. But he kept listening for the sound of the engine suddenly growing louder. He kept hoping that she'd change her mind, turn around and come back to him.

He took comfort in the fact that she'd returned his kiss. And as he sat there, he relived that first kiss, and then the second. Over and over again. He wondered what he could have done differently, said differently, to have made her stay with him.

But she did say she was going to think about it.

When the sun started to peek over the horizon, he finally gave up listening for her return, and he climbed down the side of the hill and drove himself home.

--

The sun was beginning to rise as Sara pulled into Grissom's driveway and parked next to his SUV. She sat behind the wheel, steeling herself for the questions Gil was sure to ask the moment she walked in.

_Are you okay? _Gil was sure to ask her; she thought he must be half out of his mind by now. She took stock of herself, formulating her answer. _Was_ she okay? She didn't exactly know.

_Where've you been?_ How in the world was she going to answer that one? _Making out with Nick_. No, the truth wouldn't do this time.

With a deep breath, she opened the car door and slid to the ground.

She opened the front door quietly, wanting a few extra moments of peace before the interrogation started. She was concentrating on being quiet, so it took her a moment to realize the house was still.

No television sounds. No soft music from the stereo speakers. There were no muted sweeping sounds of book pages turning.

Dropping her bag and purse in the entryway, Sara tiptoed into the living room. Grissom sat in the chair, his head lying back and to the side, his mouth open, his eyes closed. She stared at him for a long moment, anger and hurt growing.

"Thanks for being worried about me Gil," Sara muttered disappointedly and turned to head for the long hot shower that was calling her name.

--

Nick knew it was bordering obsessive, and perhaps the first stage of stalking, but he had to know if she'd gone to her own apartment or not. For the second time that night, he drove into her parking lot. And for the second time, found himself making a disappointed U turn right back out.

--

Sara closed her eyes against the spray of the shower. Images of the day streaked by her minds eye, despite her efforts to block them out. She stretched her neck back, letting the hot water hit her chest and breathed in the steam, trying to force herself to relax. Most of the replay was bitter sweet. She had been happy the majority of the day. And those moments with Nick in the desert, well, as much as they had been confusing, they weren't exactly…bad.

Nick did take up the majority of the pictures and snippets crowding her mind, how could he no? The warmth of his hands on her face, the way his lips parted slightly when he kissed her. The spark of starlight reflecting in his eyes.

"_He fell asleep." _The Nick in her mind said.

"He's tired," Sara defended unconvincingly.

"_You've seen him stay up for three days straight working a case, Sara. He can't stay awake when the woman he's supposed to love is upset somewhere in the city of Las Vegas?" _Imaginary Nick's voice rose inside her mind.

"Nick," she protested weakly and turned around, as if she could turn her back on him. It didn't occur to her to open her eyes.

"_I'm not going away," _Nick said.

"I can see that," Sara answered dryly.

"_That was some kiss you know."_

"I can't think about that right now."

"_You should have stayed with me, Sara."_

She took a deep breath. "I couldn't. I had to come home."

"_Why?"_

"Because I love him."

"_Yeah? Then why are you thinking about me?" _Imaginary Nick asked with a stupid grin on his face.

"Sara?" The voice came from the doorway, and reality flooded Sara as Imaginary Nick gave her a little wave and popped out of sight as she opened her eyes.

She cleared her throat and pushed strands of wet hair out of her face. "Yeah?"

"Honey, are you alright?" Grissom sounded genuinely concerned and stepped further into the bathroom.

Sara saw his cloudy shadow against the frosted glass shower door. _Please don't come in here with me_ she thought and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Sara?" he prodded her silence.

She watched his shadow put down the seat of the toilet and sit down. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, Gil. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Where'd you go when you left Catherine's? I was worried."

Sara grunted out a half hurt, half guilty laugh. _You should have followed Nick, he found me easily enough. _"I just went to think," she told him the truth.

"Sara," Grissom began, and paused for a long moment. Sara waited staring at the marbleized pattern on the shower tiles, her elbows held tightly to her chest, chewing on a thumbnail.

"Honey, I don't…I have no excuse for forgetting the honeymoon…Work has been…Well, I don't need to tell you, you know…"

Sara shut off the water with a snap and pulled the towel down from where it hung over the shower door. Wrapping herself tightly, she flung the door open. "Yes Gil. I've been working too. All you had to do was make plane reservations. I planned a wedding! A wedding that, may I remind you, YOU wanted. Not me. I would have been fine with a drive through chapel."

"I wanted our friends to be there, to witness our commitment. I love you, Sara."

"You love me so much, that when you didn't know where I was, you went right out searching the streets of Vegas looking for me? Or, did you come home and fall asleep?"

Stepping out of the shower she brushed past him and crossed the hall into the bedroom.

Grissom was stunned. He had fully expected Sara to forgive him, like she always had. It took him a moment to regain himself and follow her into the bedroom. By the time he arrived in the doorway, she'd grabbed a blanket from the closet and the pillow from his side of the bed. She shoved them into his arms as soon as he was in her sight.

"You find the living room so easy to sleep in, go sleep out there!" She spit the words at him.

"Sara…" Grissom used the tone of voice he reserved for her and small children.

"Nope," she held up a finger silencing him. "Not this time Grissom."

She hadn't called him by his last name in a long time, and he was amazed to find himself hurt. He stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open, not knowing what to say or do, and watched as she walked into the closet and came back out a moment later wearing sweats and a tee-shirt. She wouldn't even change in front of him, he realized.

"This is not my fault," Grissom began, and continued to speak without thinking "I'm not the one who married someone else."

Sara stopped. "What did you say?"

"You should have been paying attention."

"I was thinking about you!" she cried.

"Really? And what was Nick thinking about?" Grissom cocked an eyebrow.

"At least Nick was there, and it wasn't even his wedding."

"Well, apparently, it was," Grissom chided.

She stormed past him and down the hall.

"Sara," he called after her. "Where are you going?"

"Away from you!" She said just before she slammed the door shut behind her. A moment later a revving engine and squealing tires announced her departure.

--

"Again?" Catherine asked, and Warrick couldn't decide if her tone was disbelieving or pleading.

"Yeah, I'm up for going again," he said with that remarkable ability he had of sounding cool and hot at the same time.

"Good," she said, trying her best not to sound too anxious. "Just let me stretch out my legs, they're beginning to cramp up, all that time in one position."

"You were the one who wanted me to show you…" he began before she cut him off.

"I know, I know. Not blaming you."

"All right," Warrick drew out the words smoothly as he watched her shake out her hair and stretch cat-like across the bed.

She settled back in, draping her body horizontally across the middle of the bed. She propped her head up on one hand, and let the other hand fall to the mattress. She patted the top of the sheet. "Ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready," Warrick told her and shuffled the deck of cards in his hands. "Now, remember, the face cars are ten points, the ace is one point…"

"And the numbered cards are worth that number of points, I get it, I get it."

Warrick nodded approvingly and began to deal. He'd dealt out three cards when the phone rang.

--

Nick rolled over on to his back and irritably kicked the sheets off. Thoughts of Sara and Grissom plagued him. Nick wondered if she would make the same cooing sound with Grissom as she did with him. If her knees buckled when Grissom kissed her, as they had on the mountaintop.

The taste of Sara's kiss, the feel of her in his arms, neither would let him sleep. He had thought that once he'd kissed her, he'd never be able to stop. But not only did he stop, he let her slip away from him.

Nick swung his feet to the floor and rested his head in his hands, and was grateful he'd somehow gotten the day off, which was a miracle considering they were down two CSI's. The two that were supposed have been off on their honeymoon. Nick lay back down, and forced himself to think of Hawaii.

The gentle breeze and warm sun of his imagination had just lulled him to sleep when the jolting sound of the ringing phone woke him up.

--

Sara wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and pulled out her cell phone. She flipped it open and punched one of the speed dial buttons. She cleared her throat, swallowing away a lump of tears as she listened the phone on the other end ring. After two rings, it was picked up. "Hey, it's Sara. I'm on my way over."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

It took Grissom only a few minutes to pull on a pair of pants and grab his car keys, but those few minutes drew out like an eternity. Running out to his truck, he looked up and down the street before climbing in, just in case Sara had pulled over down the block. His insides washed over with ice as he realized she wasn't there.

She had really left.

Climbing into the truck, he fired the engine and put the transmission into reverse before he realized he had no idea where he was going.

He sat for a moment, his foot on the brake, halfway down his driveway, and thought, analyzing the problem like it was a science project gone awry. There was only one place he could think of. Digging his cell phone out of his back pocket, he dialed and backed down the rest of the driveway.

"Hey," Grissom said into the phone. "I think Sara might be on her way over there." He swallowed hard. "Keep her there, would you, I'm on my way," he hung up the phone without waiting for a response.

--

Sara glanced at her watch and wondered why there wasn't more traffic. People should be going to work, dropping off kids at school, stopping for gas and coffee. All the bits and pieces that made up normal lives. She looked around at the streets that weren't as busy as she had expected somewhere in the back of her mind. Then it dawned on her. It was Sunday. Despite all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, it _had_ _only_ been twenty-four hours.

She pulled to a stop at a traffic light, and glanced at the car next to her. A family. Dad behind the wheel, mom in the front seat, two boys in the back. They should have been a commercial, Sara decided. One of the boys in the back seat said something, Sara could see his mouth move rapidly, then watched as the parents laughed, and looked at each other as if they shared a secret joy in sharing their son.

Suddenly, her mind shifted, and she morphed into the woman sitting in the passenger seat of the sedan, laughing at the words of her son in the back seat, proud of his intelligence, marveling at how fast he was growing up. And just as she looked over to the man she had chosen, sitting behind the wheel of the car in her fantasy, the real car next to Sara moved, forcing her out of herself and back to reality.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. Instead of the desired effect, it only made the pounding in her head worse. She even thought she could hear Grissom calling her name.

--

Warrick hung up the phone and reached over with one hand, rubbing Catherine's foot, the only part of her he could reach. He was reluctant to relinquish the quiet they had. "Come on, we've got to get up. Company's coming."

--

Sara stood on the doorstep, and felt her hands shaking. She looked down at her palms, staring at them like they were foreign creatures, and forced them to hold still. She lifted her hand to knock, then quickly put it back down.

--

Working the graveyard shift for so many years, one tends to forget how the rest of the world works. Grissom had forgotten that even in Vegas, people go to church on Sundays, and wound up in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Maybe, he mused cynically, it was gamblers praying for that one big win.

As he cursed under his breath, it occurred to him that he was only a minute or two behind Sara, and her car must be stuck in this mess as well. Grissom quickly licked his lips, his eyes darting quickly back and forth and threw the car in to park. Opening the driver's side door, his feet hit the pavement for a brief instant before he slid onto the hood of the truck and stood up, bracing himself with his hand against the roof. The view was better, just not good enough.

"SARA!" He began to scream her name. "SARA! SARA!" His eyes scanned the horizon of stopped cars, watching for any signs of Sara running toward him, forgiving him.

Traffic in front of him began to move, thus causing the drivers behind him to abandon their gaping stares and begin cursing at him to get out of their way.

--

Nick jumped out of bed, throwing the cell phone down into the middle of the mattress, and hurried out of the bedroom. A moment later, he came rushing back, picked up the cell phone and placed it back on to the bedside table.

Rushing to the bathroom sink, he brushed his teeth and haphazardly ran a hand through his hair. Spitting the toothpaste into the sink, he ran the back of his hand across his mouth and rushed into the living room. He stopped suddenly, looking around, wondering where to start.

He'd just gathered up an armful of newspaper when the doorbell rang. His arms fell to his sides, and the sheets of newsprint fluttered to the floor. Nick strode purposefully to his front door. As one hand reached for the doorknob, the other ran through his hair again.

He opened the door, and his breath caught in his throat.

--

Catherine shoved the coffee decanter back into its slot and flipped the on switch.

Warrick sauntered into the kitchen tying the belt of his robe. He caught the expression on Catherine's face and stopped dead in his tracks. "What?" he asked her hesitantly.

"Sara's not here."

"I can see that," he replied, forcing the humor from his voice.

"So where is she?" Catherine asked through clenched teeth. "And what the hell did Grissom say to her that made her leave?"

"Well…" a thumping, impatient knock on the front door saved Warrick from having to answer. "I'll get it," he said, watching Catherine's back stiffen.

Grissom knocked a second time just as Warrick made it to the door, louder and more urgent. As Warrick's hand wrapped around the doorknob, he heard one of the kitchen cabinets slam shut, making him wince as he opened the door. "Hey Gris. What's going on?"

"She's not here is she?" Grissom stepped through the threshold and looked around the living room. "Her car isn't in the driveway, she's not here." He turned to face the younger man with an expression that Warrick couldn't quiet decipher.

Warrick's brow furrowed and he shut the door quietly. "No, Gris. She didn't come here. What the hell happened?"

"I screwed up," Grissom said quietly, his shoulders slumping.

Warrick was finally able to interpret the expression on Grissom's face. Fear. He'd never seen his boss afraid. "Com'on, sit down." He watched as Grissom shuffled slowly over to the couch sat. Grissom's head hung low. "I'll get some coffee, then we'll talk all this out."

--

Nick swallowed away the lump in his throat.

Sara stood in front of him, her hands pressed against her thighs, fingers spread wide. Her eyes were red and puffy; it was obvious she'd been crying, despite her feeble attempt at a smile. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and chase those tears away.

Sara lifted her chin the tiniest bit. "So…you still up for Hawaii?"

-------------------

a/n: Yes. Yes I am giggling evilly having left ya'll right there. Everyone, thank you so much for all the reviews!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"What?" Catherine almost spit out her mouthful of coffee.

"He said he screwed up," Warrick repeated what he'd told her just a moment ago as he'd walked into the kitchen and found her leaning against the kitchen sink, seething.

He watched as her body language and attitude hardened. Her shoulders straightened, her grip on the coffee cup tightened, knuckles growing white.

"He said that?" Catherine finally said.

"Yeah," Warrick stepped up to her and put one hand on her hip as he leaned past and opened the cabinet behind her, pulling out two more coffee mugs.

"But he didn't say what he did?" She questioned further, watching his back as he moved toward the coffee maker and filled both cups.

"No, Cath, he didn't elaborate. He just slumped on the couch, like he was giving up."

"He _slumped_?" Catherine seemed to soften a bit about the possible slumping.

Warrick nodded as he turned around and headed for the kitchen door, backing his way out, a cup in each hand. "You coming?" he asked his back holding open the door for her.

She pressed her lips together tightly, and adjusted her robe with a hard tug. Warrick nearly grimaced at the sight. It wasn't a good sign.

Warrick knew all to well the differences in the women's personalities hadn't made for a close friendship at first. But in the past year or so, they'd grown into a comfortable ceasefire that had, as he watched fascinated, bloomed in to a full-fledged friendship as Catherine helped Sara with the feminine aspects of planning a wedding.

"Yeah," Catherine said determined. "I'm coming." She marched past him into the living room, and laid eyes on Grissom for the first time.

Grissom sat on the couch; his head bowed, his hands covering his face.

Catherine stood there for a moment, coffee in one hand, the other resting on her cocked hip in a kind of challenge for Grissom to lift his head and look at her.

Warrick watched from the kitchen doorway with a mixture of amusement and trepidation swirling in the pit of his stomach.

The room grew quiet and still, as if the walls were holding their breath with anticipation.

"What the hell did you do Grissom?" Catherine's voice rose to no more than a normal level, and yet it reverberated as if she had screamed at the top of her lungs.

Grissom sat up as if a shot had gone off in the room. His eyes were unfocused from the pressure of his palms. He stared at Catherine for the briefest moment, as if trying to remember who she was and why she was angry with him.

"Hi Cath," he said simply.

"Don't 'hi Cath' me Gil. What did you do to Sara?"

Grissom let his hands fall outwards at the wrists, "I ah… I screwed up."

"Yeah, I got that much from Warrick." Catherine pulled the chair to the opposite side of the coffee table, facing Grissom like he was a suspect. "What, exactly, did you do?" She glanced up as Warrick entered her peripheral vision.

Warrick handed Grissom one of the cups of coffee before sitting down on the sofa next to him.

Grissom was grateful for the distraction, and he sipped the strong hot coffee, taking the moment to formulate his answer. Licking his upper lip, he held the cup between his hands and met Catherine's stare. "I accused her of marrying Nick on purpose."

Catherine rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, "The only reason Nick was standing next to her was you absence."

"I know," Grissom muttered.

"Sara spent every waking moment of the last three months planning that wedding, because it's what you wanted."

"I know," he murmured again, sinking back a little into the sofa cushions, as if physically pushed by her voice.

"She would have much preferred standing next to you at the alter…"

"I know," he sank a little further back.

"And as for marrying Nick," Catherine went on as if Grissom hadn't said a word, "that was an error on the ministers part." She glanced at Warrick. "None of us thought to tell him it was a proxy ceremony." With that last sentence, her voice became softer; as if it was not the first time her own responsibility had occurred to her.

Warrick took a hard swallow of coffee, his own guilt a hard lump in his throat, and looked down at his feet. Guilt had been eating at him since Hodges self-satisfied announcement had sunk in. He felt that if he'd been paying attention during the ceremony, and not staring at Catherine, letting his imagination run away with him and picturing their own wedding, then maybe he would have caught the use of Nicks name, not Grissom's. Then none of this would have happened.

"I should have gone after her," Grissom admitted quietly.

"You did, Gris," Warrick tried to console him.

"No," Grissom shook his head and looked at Warrick. "Earlier, when she stormed out of here, I should have gone after her."

"You and Brass didn't go looking for her?" Catherine had assumed that when the two men left her house they had set off on Sara's trail.

Grissom shook his head. "I went home. Thought she needed to cool off."

Warrick turned his head toward the front door, remembering Nick's determined expression as he'd left, minutes after Sara. Cocking an eyebrow, Warrick suddenly thought he knew where Sara might be.

"When she came home," Grissom continued, not wanting to admit the rest, "I'd fallen asleep."

Catherine's mouth fell open unbelieving, and she stared at the man sitting in front of her as if she'd never seen him before. Suddenly, she stood up and stomped toward the bedroom, too angry to continue the conversation.

"Yeah," Grissom muttered, "that was pretty much Sara's reaction too."

"Look, Gris…" Warrick began; the shrill sound of his cell phone interrupted him. "Hang on," he said quietly as he rose from the couch and headed toward the dining room table where his cell was.

The caller id told him who it was before he answered. "Hey," Warrick said in to the phone.

"Is it Sara?" Grissom asked hopefully.

Warrick met his boss's eyes and shook his head slightly as he listened to the caller's voice in his ear. "There anything we can do?" His eyes narrowed as he listened for another moment. "Grissom's here, I'll tell him….Okay, then, call, let us know." Warrick clicked the phone close and looked at Grissom. "That was Nick, he's had a family emergency, and he's headed to Dallas."

Grissom's stomached flipped with guilt over the hatful accusations he'd made against the innocent man. "Anything we can do?"

Warrick shook his head. "He said he'd call and let us know."

--

Nick hung up the phone and looked over to Sara, sitting on his couch. "Grissom's over there," he told her.

"So?"

Nick bit his lower lip to keep from smiling and looked at his watch. "We've got to head to the airport, the plane leaves in just over an hour."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Nick was glad they'd left Sara's car parked in his garage next to his own truck and taken a cab to the airport. Sunday seemed to be _the_ time to leave Las Vegas; tourists headed home to restart their normal lives come Monday morning.

Each was quiet as they stood in line, inching their way up to the ticket counter. Stilted small talk had run its course, and there was a silent agreement between them that Grissom would not be discussed. And to talk of the work they did, of victims of crime and lab reports on bodily fluids seemed a sin to discuss while on the way to Hawaii. Sara was lost in her thoughts, rebellion was not in her character, and she had butterflies of doubt, a sliver of fear of getting caught.

She glanced over toward Nick, looking at him anew, as if she hadn't known him for over six years. She remembered how she'd almost written him off as an overgrown frat boy/ladies man. Oh, how wrong she'd been.

She liked his eyes, she decided. They'd always been gentle and full of humor. But now she saw a passion in them, a glow like they were lit from behind, as though a fire were burning inside of him. And his jaw…She'd always admired his jaw line, but now that she had experienced what that jaw could do…As she remembered the kisses on the top of her mountain, fireworks shot off inside her stomach, effectively roasting the butterflies.

"Sara?" Nick smiled brightly at her. "You okay?"

She blinked then returned his smile. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're staring at me." Nick cocked an amused eyebrow as Sara's cheeks turned a dusty-rose pink. "What, ah…" he stepped closer and leaned in, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What _exactly_ were you thinking about?"

"This," Sara said as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him to her in one swoop, kissing him passionately.

After a moment, a man behind them cleared his throat roughly, deliberately. They broke the kiss, grinning at each other, and glanced around. They were now the first in line, and a clerk behind the counter was looking at them expectantly, a sly grin on her face.

"Oops," Sara giggled and Nick bent down to pick up the bag he'd thrown some clothes into.

"Aloha," greeted the ticket clerk, whose name badge read Amanda. "Welcome to Paradise Air."

"Aloha," Nick returned the greeting.

"You'll have to forgive us;" Sara began, "we're on our honeymoon."

"Oh," purred Amanda, "how very sweet." Her eyes ran up and down Sara who was still wearing the sweats and tee shirt she'd put on at Grissom's. They both handed her their ids, and Amanda typed in their reservations. "Oh," she said surprised "your reservation was just made this morning."

"Yes," Nick beamed. "The trip was sort of last minute."

"Oh?" Amanda asked. "Did you elope?"

"Yes."

"No."

They both spoke at once, glanced at each other, then at the confused Amanda. "Sort of," was all Sara could think to say by way of explanation without going in to the entire story.

Amanda smiled brightly. She punched a few buttons on her keyboard, her fingers flying and a moment later their tickets slid out of the printer next to her. "Here you go," she handed each of them their tickets and ids and told them where their gate was. "Enjoy your trip and congratulations."

-

"Have you been to Hawaii?" Nick asked once they'd found two empty adjacent chairs at the gate.

"No. You?"

Nick shook his head and couldn't help thinking about the blonde hooker he'd interviewed a few months ago. "Hey," he looked at his watch. "We've got a few minutes before they begin boarding, you wanna hit the news stand… or the bar?"

"The bar? It's barely noon," Sara was amused, but not entirely disinterested.

Nick shrugged shyly. "I'm ah… not that keen on flying."

"Well, at least you told me before we got in the air."

"C'mon," he stood and took her hand, tugging her up with him.

-

"I'm not afraid of flying," he said after his first swallow of beer.

Sara nodded encouragingly, trying hard to keep from grinning. "No, of course not." She sipped her own drink

The beer and lack of sleep had loosened Nicks tongue and left him addled. "You know, we wouldn't even be here if Griss had been afraid to fly." The words were out of his mouth before he knew it, and Nick could have kicked himself.

"I'm gonna grab some magazines for the flight," Sara stood quickly.

"Sara," Nick called out to her, reaching up, trying to grab her arm as she passed by him. She didn't stop and he watched her leave the bar and turn out of his sight. "Damn it, Stokes," he muttered to himself.

-

Sara grabbed a copy of Newsweek, and studied the cover of Vanity Fair. A photo of a half naked movie actress graced its cover, and Sara wondered who she was. She picked it up anyway, her eyes already moving on. Wedding magazines caught her eye, and she blanched at them, fighting the urge to stick out her tongue. She grabbed a copy of Sports Illustrated and bypassed the issue of Maxim for a copy of GQ. She wasn't sure Nick would be interested in either, but she wanted to get him something. At the register she added two large bottles of water, a pack of dried banana chips for herself and bag of mini Snickers for him.

"Hey," Nick was at her side and taking the bagged purchase from the clerk as Sara slid her credit card back into her wallet. "They're calling our flight." He looked at her, his eyes darting back and forth, searching hers. He wanted to know how badly his slip of the tongue had hurt her.

She was a little miffed at his comment, but wasn't going to let him see it. "Ok," she said smiling. "Where're we sitting anyway?"

Nick pulled their boarding passes out of his jacket pocket. "Oh," he said, awed.

"What?" Sara said straining to see the tickets in his hand, knowing that something had gone wrong, everything was going too well, and their luck couldn't last.

"She bumped us to first class," Nick said grinning.

-

"Aloha ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Paradise Air," a short stewardess said into the microphone as she smoothed her long black hair. "We're next in line to take off, and should be in the air shortly. Honolulu is only six hours away." A cheer went up from the economy class seating behind the curtains.

Nick turned his head to look at Sara who sat in the window seat to his right. "Hey," he said quietly.

She turned her gaze away from the window and read his eyes. "It's okay, Nick," she answered his unspoken question and put a hand on his arm.

"Yeah?" He dipped his head just a bit, intensifying his scrutiny.

"Yeah," she said resolutely. "Now," she changed the subject, "what do you know about Hawaii?'

"I know it became a state in 1959."

"Very funny," she made a face at him.

"Well, what do you want Sara? There's a warm ocean, white sandy beaches and alcoholic concoctions to drink."

"Concoct-" Sara stopped. Her fingers flew to her lips, her eyes growing wide. "Oh my God."

Nick sat up in the seat worried. "What?" When she did answer him right away, he panicked. "Sara! What is it?"

"Nick! How are we going to explain both of us going back to work with tans?"

He fell back into the seat with relief and laughed out loud. "Sara…who says we're going to make it out of the hotel room?"

Sara's mouth fell open. She sat back in her seat and looked back out the window as the plane taxied down the runway building up speed. Sara watched everything whiz past her faster and faster, thinking about being in bed with Nick as the ground dropped away beneath them.

-

"Champagne to celebrate your honeymoon." The stewardess held up a bottle of bubbly near her face, looking like a game show hostess. "Compliments of the captain."

"Thank you, and thank the captain too." Nick said pulling down his tray. Taking the champagne flutes from the stewardess, he handed one to Sara.

The stewardess popped the cork and filled each of their glasses. "I propose a toast," Nick said, holding up his glass.

"Somewhat appropriate since you didn't propose to me." Sara said smiling.

"Did you propose to him?" The stewardess asked, intrigued.

"No, actually. We got married by accident," Nick told her, smiling brightly.

She lifted her eyebrows. "By acci-" she thought it best not to ask "Well… If there's anything you need, please let us know."

"We will, thank you," Sara smiled sweetly. After the stewardess walked away, she looked at Nick. "That was kind of mean."

"What?" He laughed. "It's the truth."

She sighed. "What was your toast?"

Nick sat up, lifting his glass. "To the wonderful week we're going to have."

She clinked her glass against his and they each took long sips. "Hey," she said excitedly, a thought coming to her. "You wanna join the mile high club?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

"Nope," he said simply.

Sara was aghast. And disappointed. "You don't?"

"No. I won't be rushed with you. At least not our first time." He gazed deeply at her for a moment before taking her chin in his fingertips. "We're going to take our time."

"Oh," Sara said, smiling again.

-

It wasn't long before the alcohol, lack of sleep and the events of the past two days finally caught up with Sara. She fell into a gentle sleep, her head resting against the window. Unclipping his seat belt, Nick stood and grabbed a pillow from the overhead, gently slipping it under Sara's head. He watched her for a moment, a small smile on his face. He felt as if he should pinch himself. This couldn't be true. He couldn't really be on a plane bound for Hawaii with Sara at his side. It just couldn't be possible. It had to be a dream.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: Thanks for all the reviews. Does a writers heart good.

My thanks to AlwaysWrite for the beta job and all her perfect suggestions.

Stay tuned for the next chapter…


	11. Chapter 11

_Ok, I hardly ever to a/n's, and when I do they are never at the beginning, but I had to apologize from the start about how long it's taken to post. I had a couple of major upheavals in my life and writing had to take a temporary back seat. Thank you to all who emailed wondering where the next chapter was, and again, I'm sorry it's taken so long. Now, with no further ado…_

**Chapter 11**

Nick tugged at the string of flowers around his neck. Sara grinned and reached up to tuck the tropical blooms away from his skin. "Look at you," she laughed, "you act as though you've never been leid before."

Nick rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, quickly smiling at the lame joke. "_I_ was planning on saying that." The woman in front of them in the rental car line turned around and threw them a scolding look as she covered her young son's ears with her hands. Sara drew her lips in tight, barely containing the laugh that threatened to burst through. Nick looked at his feet, but not before catching the exchanged glance between the offended woman and the man who Nick assumed was her husband and father of the little boy struggling to free himself of his mothers vice grip hold on his head.

Sara checked her watch out of habit, and wondered if Grissom had yet realized she'd left not only the city, but also the state. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick watching her. Pushing away all thoughts of Las Vegas (and everyone in it) she smiled at him, and shifted her mind to the beads of perspiration rolling down the back of her knees underneath the sweats that, while totally appropriate for the cold desert morning they'd left behind, was unsuitable in the warm Hawaiian afternoon.

"You all right?" Nick asked her.

"Mmm-hmm." She pulled at the material that covered her thigh. "Just a little warm." The family in front of them stepped up to the counter, making Nick and Sara next to waited on.

"What do you want to do first?" Nick asked.

"Go shopping," Sara said quickly. He cocked his head, confused, and Sara continued.

"I've got to get out of these things," she pulled at the sweats again. "And get a tooth brush," she added before running her tongue over her teeth.

"Aloha," the young male clerk behind the counter greeted and beckoned to them with the fingers of one hand.

"Aloha…" Nick echoed as he approached the counter and read the man's nametag. "Steven. You have a reservation for Stokes," he said as he pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans.

"Alrighty," said the Steven as his fingers flew across the keyboard. "Is this your first time in Hawaii?"

"Yes," both Nick and Sara said together.

"There you are," the younger man's eyes lit up momentarily as he found the reservation in the computer system. Nick had a fleeting thought of Indiana Jones finding an elusive golden idol.

As the two men took care of the details of the rental, Sara watched as the family that had been in front of them left the rental counter, the young boy telling random strangers both with and without flowers strung around their necks: "You got laid."

* * *

The quiet rap on Grissom's office door was like a gunshot ricocheting around inside his skull. He raised his head, and looked toward his visitor with tired, sleep deprived eyes. 

"Hello Jim," Gil greeted, not even bothering to try to sound pleasant.

Jim Brass approached the CSI's desk and sat a steaming mug of coffee down in front of his friend. "Headache?"

Grissom nodded. "And little sleep."

"You shouldn't be here," the captain sat down in one of the two chairs that faced the desk.

"Have to. We're short two people. Nick's in Texas with a family emergency…" he let the sentence trail off. They both knew who the other CSI not at work was.

Brass let the conversation idle for a moment, and sipped his coffee. "Catherine told me Sara's missing."

"She's not missing. She's…" Grissom didn't know how to finish the sentence, flabbergasted that a man of his education and linguistic knowledge could be struck dumb by a woman. But it wasn't just any woman. It was Sara.

"Do you know where she is?" Brass asked pointedly.

Reluctantly, Grissom shook his head.

"Then she's missing, huh?" The police captain tried to keep his voice friendly, but the sarcastic hardness attained by years of interrogation kept pushing through.

"Jim," Grissom began quietly, with a tone of a man confessing to his priest. "I…"

Brass gave him a moment to finish. When Gil didn't, he prodded. "What?"

"I miss her."

* * *

"You did _not_ rent this car!" Sara exclaimed trying and failing to keep the excitement out of her voice. She stood next to a cherry red Mustang with a black drop top, and watched as Nick popped the trunk and stuck his suitcase inside. "Jeez Nick. We could've got something a little less flashy and...less expensive. I mean, I know you weren't prepared for this and that's one hell of an expense. You'll be paying your credit card bill with your retirement checks." 

"Don't worry about it," he said, and moved toward the passenger side door, opening it for her. "I got it covered."

"Nick I—"

"Sara it's okay, believe me."

"How is it okay? You charged the tickets, the hotel suite, and now this…" she said, sliding into the seat despite her protests.

"I..." he began, and the rest was a jumble of muttered syllables as he began moving around to the drivers side of the car.

Sara swung around and watched him walk around the car. She thought she'd picked out the word 'fun' or 'nun' or something. Her eyes narrowed as he slid behind the wheel. "Hey cowboy, care to run that by me again?"

Nick sighed, embarrassed. "I have a trust fund."

* * *

"Hey," Catherine called down the hallway, stopping Warrick in mid step. He turned, and couldn't help but smile at the sight of her. 

"Hey yourself."

"Have you heard from Nick?"

Warrick shook his head. "Nope. But he'll call when he can."

Catherine shook her hair off her shoulders. "Maybe we should call his parents' house, check in on him."

Warrick seemed to consider the idea for a moment before he shook his head, disagreeing. "No. He's a big boy. He'll call when he'll call."

* * *

Sara had spied the store she wanted a few blocks from the hotel, but hadn't wanted to let Nick know where she was going or what she had in mind. A part of her was afraid she might still chicken out, and she didn't want to see any added disappointment in his eyes. 

Since she didn't have any luggage with her, she left Nick to check into the hotel and began her walk. It was only a few minutes later she found herself under the pink-and-white stripped awning, daring herself to go in.

"Aloha, welcome to Victoria's Secret. How can I help you?" The saleslady asked brightly.

"I ah…" Sara didn't know where to begin. "This was a spur of the moment trip, so I… I need a bit of everything."

The woman cocked an eyebrow. "Everything?"

Sara nodded. "And it's our honeymoon."

The lady smiled vibrantly. "Well, then…how about we start with our beautiful baby doll nighties… Tell me, does he prefer leather or lace?"

Sara's mind shot back seven years, and she smiled brightly. "Lace."

-

"So now you're on your honeymoon with the your…what'd you call it? A proxy groom?" A young sales girl asked as she folded up the last of Sara's items and handed the bag to Sara.

Sara hadn't been able to contain herself. She'd let the events of the past week pour out of her, telling these strangers how she'd ended up married to a man she hadn't intended to be married to. As she shopped and tried on the clothes, she'd told them the story, other clerks in the store had gathered to listen and fetch different sizes and colors. Even a few other customers had put their lives on hold to listen to the saga.

"Yeah," Sara answered as she took the charge slip from the cashier, and placed her left hand over the total before she signed. _She was nervous enough as it was without the added strain of knowing a hefty Mastercard bill would be headed her way._ "So now I'm headed off to a wedding night with a man who I've known for seven years, but have only kissed a few times."

"Wow," said the young girl.

"Yeah, I know." Sara handed the signed receipt back with a smile and bent to pick up her bags. She thanked everyone for their help and headed out the door to her husband through the fading Hawaiian sunlight.

-

Nick thanked the room service operator and hung up the phone. Falling backwards onto the bed, he wondered if one plate of strawberries would be enough. Checking his watch, he was surprised to see how late it was getting. He sat up and looked out through the glass doors that lead to the balcony. Dusk was blanketing the sky. Where was Sara? Maybe she'd changed her mind and caught a plane back to Nevada. No, he thought to himself. She wouldn't run out on him.

He had to calm himself down. It'd had been too much; thinking the woman he loved was married to another man, only to find out she was married to _him_. Their kiss on the mountain top. Sara's coming to him after a fight with Grissom. And now Hawaii. Not to mention the whole anticipation thing his mind was going through, making his stomach flip at the very thought of the evening ahead of them.

_Calm down, Stokes,_ he told himself. Hopping up off the bed, he looked around, rubbing the palms of his hands on the thighs of his jeans. He needed something to take his mind off everything. Glancing around he saw that there really wasn't anything to distract him; he had already unpacked and had even showered. With a deep sigh, he strolled over to the balcony and stepped outside, leaning against the railing watching the sun fade into the pacific.

Sara stopped at the front desk and got the room number and key. Fidgeting with the three bags from Victoria's Secret, she got on the elevator and pushed the button for the twenty-second floor.

Finding the right room, Sara set the bags down at her feet and quietly slipped the key into the lock, letting the tumblers click as quietly as possible. She slowly opened the door just a few inches and poked her head in, stealing quick glances around the room. The booty her bags held was a surprise, and she wanted to keep it a surprise as long as she possibly could. Nick was on the balcony, his back to her. Grinning, Sara gathered the bags at her feet, and slipped stealthy through the open door, pushing it quietly shut, and scampered into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Nick turned around, thinking he heard something, but found the room just as empty as he'd left it. He sighed deeply and turned back around again, watching the sun's progress as it sank slowly into the ocean.

Only the top of the sun could be seen over the horizon when the stern but polite rap on the door interrupted his revere. _Room service,_ he thought as he stepped from the balcony into the room. O_r Sara_. Even though he'd left Sara's name at the front desk, and had given instructions to give her the room number and a key, he grinned at the thought of something having gone wrong, and Sara knocking on every single door in the hotel trying to find him.

"Hello?" Nick said to the closed door.

"Room service, sir," a deep male voice answered.

Nick opened the door to find a man so big, he had to duck through the doorway as he wheeled the cart into the room and parked it near the tiny alcove of a kitchenette. "Anything else I can get for you sir?" His dark eyes shone with humor, and Nick realized his mouth was hanging open in amazement at the sheer size of this guy.

He snapped his mouth shut, and quickly licked his lips. "No, that'll do it partner."

With a tiny lift of his chin, the waiter said, "Texas, right?"

Nick grinned. "Yeah, by way of Vegas. How'd you know?"

The waiter handed Nick the bill to sign. "Seen a lot of people here. I've gotten pretty good at the accents. Even had a few people here from Greenland, coupla weeks ago."

"Greenland, huh?" Nick took the bill and signed it, leaving a tip generous enough to match his good mood. "They had a long flight."

"Yeah," the waiter agreed and glanced down at the tip as he walked toward the door. "Well," he said, suddenly in a very good mood of his own. "If you need anything else," he opened the door and stepped out into the hall, "just ask for me. Name's Leslie."

"Les-" Nick began.

"Yeah. My momma says if she'd have known what I'd of end up like, she'd have named me Train." Leslie laughed and closed the door after him.

Nick blinked, and found himself wondering how big (or little) Leslie's mother was. Turning his attention toward the room service cart, he lifted the silver domed lid and found a plate of the largest strawberries he'd ever seen. That was when he heard the shower. And realized the bathroom door was closed.

"Sara?" Nick called and walked over to the closed bathroom door.

There was no response.

"Sara?" he tried again, this time right at the door.

"Yeah," Sara answered him, her voice echoing a bit around the tiled walls of the shower.

Nick breathed a sigh of relief, and realized he'd been more concerned about her heading back to Vegas than he'd admitted to himself. "Got a surprise for you out here."

The shower shut off and her voice was clearer, no longer drowned out by the water. "Okay, um…" he heard her pull the shower curtain back. "I'm gonna be a few minutes."

Nick nodded. "Okay."

-

A few minutes turned into a half hour. Nick had known girls who'd taken longer to get dressed, but Sara had never been one of those girls. What on Earth could she be doing in there?

Sara sat on the closed toilet lid, staring at the piece of silky electric blue fabric that hung from her fingers like it was a suspect in the interrogation room. It was a teddy she'd bought specifically for this night, and while she really wanted to wear it, she couldn't for the life of her figure out how to fasten all those tiny hooks up the back.

"Sar?" Nick called from the other side of the door. "You okay?"

"Fine." She said quickly, the concern in his voice got her moving. She stood and tossed the complicated teddy back into the bag. Nick could hear rustling, but didn't have a clue what she was doing. "I'll be right out." Sara called.

Nick sat back down on the small sofa and debated over turning on the television. True to her word, a few minutes later, the knob on the bathroom door clicked and Sara stepped out in bare feet, jeans and a lacy valentine-red tank top with spaghetti straps that curved over her shoulders like they were made to be there.

"Wow," was all Nick could manage to say.

"I know it's not very sexy…" Sara began.

"No, no-" Nick cleared his throat. "It's… ah, it's fine."

Sara tucked her hair behind her ears and looked nervously around, finding the room service cart. "Is that my surprise?"

"Yeah," Nick seemed to regain himself and stepped over to the cart and picked up the bottle of champagne. The ice slushed and clinked against the silver bucket. "I haven't opened one of these in a while," he said as he stripped off the foil casing and worked the cork.

"Oh, strawberries too," Sara said pleased, as she lifted the lid and bit into one of the sweet berries. "It's a beautiful room," she told him, looking around and really seeing it for the first time.

"Yeah, it is," Nick answered, still concentrating on the cork. "Great view too."

Sara nodded and picked up another strawberry before she walked across the room and out onto the balcony. The cork popped loudly as she stepped out into the night air, followed by the tinkling of the glasses as Nick poured. The warm breeze blew through her hair, bringing the scent of the ocean and a thousand flowers. The night sky was clear, the stars so bright, Sara thought she could reach out and touch them. She heard Nick's foot falls on the balcony. "I miss this smell," she told him as she breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the salty slightly fishy scent of the ocean.

"How long has it been since you were in Frisco?" He asked handing her a glass of champagne.

She shrugged. "How long have I been in Vegas… seven years?" she sipped from her glass. "That's a long time."

"It's a lot of dead people." Nick said dryly.

They were both quiet as they sipped the champagne and contemplated the stars.

"You nervous?" Nick asked quietly.

"Yep," Sara admitted and turned toward him.

He smiled slightly. "Don't be," he took the champagne out of her hand and set them both down on the glass-topped table.

Sara's breath shuddered, and she felt a flight of butterflies take off in her stomach.

Nick cupped her jaw and looked deeply into her eyes.

And just like that, the nervousness was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

She wasn't ready to wake up. She kept her eyes closed and let herself lay in the peaceful warmth knowing that if a genie came along and granted her three wishes, she would have a hard time coming up with anything she needed. Or wanted. She couldn't remember ever feeling as wonderful as she did now. She was dreamy, drowsy, somehow liquid. And she knew that if she was destined to stay right there, wrapped up in those sheets, that blanket, in Nick's arms, for the rest of her life, that she would be just fine with that. Nick moved slightly, the mattress giving as he shifted. She felt his lips softly land on her neck just behind her ear. "Good morning," his whispered, breath trickling over her ear.

She smiled before opening her eyes, a mental tug of war being played in her head. Release the sleepy sensation and be awake with the man next to her, or wrap herself in it and snuggle in even closer to him and linger, delving further into the warmth that came with lying next to him.

With a sigh deeper and more pleasantly satisfied than any she'd ever had before, Sara opened her eyes and turned her head to peek over her shoulder, meeting Nick's eyes. And became suddenly, inexplicably shy. She glanced away, letting her chin rest on her shoulder and her eyes rest on the far wall.

Nick felt the change in her, watched her glance away from him as quickly as she could. He had thought it'd been a wonderful night, and all his senses had told him Sara had felt the same. He wondered if perhaps she'd had a dream. Was she shocked to open her eyes and find the younger man next to her and not the man she'd thought she…

Sara looked at him again. And smiled brightly. Nicks heart soared.

-

By the time they'd reluctantly decided they should rouse themselves and actually get out of bed, it was long past breakfast, and closer to lunchtime. Both were famished, neither had eaten the night before, and Sara couldn't actually remember the last time she'd eaten much at all. Nick ordered room service again while Sara showered. After he hung up the phone, he heard something he couldn't quite place. Stepping up to the closed bathroom door, the sound grew a little louder and clearer. Singing. Sara was singing. He smiled to himself, pleased that she was relaxed and happy.

When lunch arrived, Sara was towel drying her hair while Nick showered. She had the food brought out onto the balcony, and had to sit on her hands to keep herself from attacking her lunch before Nick sat down and joined her.

He stepped out onto the sunny balcony and took a deep breath. A breath deep enough and long enough, that Sara had a moment to take in the sight of him in his swim trunks. She'd always been appreciative of his physic, but now that she'd had first hand experience…her body began to react in ways that until last night wasn't advisable.

"I was thinking we'd hit the beach today," Nick told her as he sat down and caught her line of sight. He picked up his fork digging into the grilled fish in front of him, reminding Sara that there was food in front of her, and that indeed, she was hungry.

Sara nodded and picked up her own fork, spearing a tempting tomato nestled at the very top of her salad. "Sounds good." She chewed a moment and swallowed. "I gotta admit, I've missed the ocean," she confessed softly as she glanced out toward the waves.

Nick lifted his glass of ice tea, taking a long sip as he watched Sara stare at the water. _My God she's beautiful _he thought to himself. "C'mon girl, we're burning daylight. Let's finish lunch then go get those tans we'll have to explain back in Vegas."

Sara smiled at the memory of her earlier panic and dug into her salad like a starved woman.

* * *

Jim Brass rubbed his hands together briskly. _Finally,_ he thought,_ we can get something done. _He waited for the man sitting in the chair across from his desk to absorb what Brass had just told him. 

"What?" said the man; the mister who was supposed to have married Sara to Gil, but had instead married her to Nick. "I…I noticed the groom wasn't acting like a groom…I, I mean he only kissed her cheek." The minister scooted up in his chair, balancing on the edge. "Most couples, you practically have to throw a bucket of water on them to get them to stop kissing, but this one…I remember he only kissed her cheek…I found it very odd at the time. Quaint, but odd. Now it's certainly understandable." He stared reflectively at a file cabinet in Brass' office. Brass watched, and could see the gears shift in the mans head. "But…" the mister said suddenly flustered, "you're the police, I didn't… I mean, marrying the wrong groom, surely isn't a crime… it's an accident!"

"Yeah," Brass said, forcing the menacing-cop tone in his voice. If it had been any other three people this had happened to, it would have been funny. "Yeah, well, as far as my being a cop, it just so happens that I gave away the bride," he watched as the minister relaxed a little. "And the two people you were _supposed _to marry, as well as the…'_the accidental groom',_" Brass made quotation marks in the air with his fingers, "are all crime scene investigators. So you might say the law has a vested interest in this. We just need to know how to fix it."

The mister let out a breath. "So I'm not in trouble?"

Brass shook his head and smiled politely. "No." _But if you don't tell me how to unmarry them in the next few minutes, I'll put you in for a cavity search. _"No," he said again, "no trouble at all."

"Well," the minister began, "it's a simple process really. Either the bride or the groom can just file for an annulment, similar to a divorce. Get a judge to sign it, -I'm sure you know a judge or two?" He watched as Brass nodded and gave him an obligatory smile. "It's a matter of paperwork, and then it's like it never happened."

"Simple enough," Brass said. _Now, if we only knew where the bride is. _

* * *

Even with the close calls in the locker room over the years, and their recent intimate excursions, Sara still felt a little shy undressing in front of Nick. Her bags from Victoria's Secret were still piled up in the bathroom, silky things spilling out over the counter, so she didn't completely shut the bathroom door behind her, and changed quickly, hoping he didn't notice her need for privacy. 

If her husband had been something other than an experienced CSI, perhaps he wouldn't have noticed. But in fact, Nick did notice Sara's retreat to the bathroom, and shrugged it off after a moment. This was entirely new for him as well, and, he noticed with a slight smile on his face, she did leave the door slightly open. There was hope.

That smile on his face fell, giving way to complete and unadulterated gawking when Sara stepped out from the bathroom in her bikini. Black with strings that tied at each hip, the suit, that is to say _Sara _in the suit, made his mind go completely blank.

"Are you breathing?" Sara asked teasingly, and Nick realized with a rush of oxygen, that no, in fact, he had not been.

"Still want to go?" he asked his voice unsteady and catching in his throat, hoping she said no, to hell with the beach.

Sara knew the effect she was having on him, and was enjoying it fully. "Sure," she answered and slowly sauntered the few steps toward the bed, bending over and lazily reaching over to unnecessarily fluff the far pillow. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he was watching. He was. She liked that he was watching, and decided to see how many sentences she could get him to stop in the middle of, how many times she could make that glazed look come into his eyes through out the day. Letting go of the pillow she straightened, turning to face him just as his hands connected with her waist. With the motion of her turn, his fingertips grazed over her bare stomach. Sara felt unsteady on her feet, and wondered how wise was the idea of teasing him all day. In teasing him, was she not teasing herself?

She ran her hands up his arms, grasping his shoulders, while Nick moved his hands from her waist to the small of her back and pulled her to him. They stared intensely into each other's eyes and Sara felt almost dizzy, like the world had toppled onto its side, and she was tipping over along with it. When he kissed her, an electric shock ran down her spine. Sara shivered.

Nick felt her tremble against him, misinterpreting the quiver as a symptom of cold, not heat. He broke the kiss and rubbed his hands briskly over her skin. "Come on, let's get out in the sun- warm you up."

_Any hotter and I'll self-combust_, Sara thought to herself and quickly flashed on an old case she and Warrick had worked years ago. "Hey, Nick—What's gonna happen when we get back and Warrick finds out you lied to him about needing to go to Texas?"

Nick's back muscles tensed for the briefest moment before he relaxed and pulled away from her. He shrugged. "I think once I tell him, he'll understand. At least I hope he will." He didn't want to think about it, and changed the subject. "You ready girl?"

-

The elevator was mirrored, and each snuck glances at the other's reflection as they rode down. Nick saw Sara's skin was almost as white as the flimsy gauze of a cover up she'd popped into the bathroom and came out with wrapped around her waist. "We need to get you some sun screen."

"And beach towels too," Sara added.

"Okay," Nick nodded as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out, making their way across the lobby toward the gift shop.

A little boy ran up to them, Sara recognized him from the line at the car rental counter. He must have recognized them too, because he blurted out "You got leid," loud enough for every single person in the lobby to stop in their tracks and stare.

_Sure did little man_, Nick thought, but didn't say, putting a hand on the boys head and ruffling his hair. _He'll understand someday. _

"Chauncey!" said a very frustrated female voice from a few feet away. As the woman approached them, both Sara and Nick recognized her too from the car rental line. She shot them a look that said _Oh, you two again_ and grabbed her son's shoulder with a claw like hand, steering him away.

Holding in a fit of giggles, the honeymooners restarted on their path to the gift shop. After a few steps, Sara said, through laugher she could no longer hold back, "Chauncey!"

"I know," Nick agreed. "Poor kid."

-

Sara had argued, but Nick had insisted on paying for the beach towels and sunscreen. He even told her to go pick out a pair of sunglasses, and in her absence he wandered over to the shelf of condoms. He'd only brought a few with him for two reasons. First, he hadn't wanted Sara to find a case of them in his bag and be forever turned off, and secondly, well, he just hadn't wanted to tempt fate. So, while Sara's back was to him, he picked up a box of his favorite brand and slipped them into his hand underneath the towels. "Sar, meet you at the counter," he called over to her.

At the register, the cashier took quick stock of Nick's items, and quickly offered to have the box of condoms sent up to his room. "Unless you're going to need them at the beach…" she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Uh yeah, I-I mean, no, we won't need them…there." Nick swallowed hard feeling like he did when he was fifteen and buying his first box. "Yes, please have them sent up, room 2212."

The cashier nodded and discreetly put the box underneath her side of the counter just as Sara walked up.

"Find anything?" Nick asked, as he slipped his arm around her waist.

"Yep," Sara held up two pair of sunglasses. "Got a pair for you too." She bopped her hip against his and snaked her arm around his shoulders.

"Will you be at our luau tonight?" The cashier asked brightly.

Nick smiled as much at the idea as for the change in topic. "Luau?" he glanced at Sara and found her smiling too.

"Yep, the hotel has one every week for the guests. It's a chance to see some real Hawaiian partying." She shimmed her hips a little.

"Yeah," Sara said glancing up at Nick, "I think we'll be there."

* * *

He'd done it assuming he would find out what hotel in Vegas she was at, so he could go collect her and bring her back to file the annulment. And now as he stared at the report of Sara's credit card activity, Brass wasn't sure what to do. 

Hawaii.

Sara was in Hawaii.

Or at least her credit card was…at Victoria's Secret no less. No way he could go to the islands and bring her home. He'd doubted his ability to do that when he thought she'd been at a hotel down the street on the strip.

Well, the bride filing the annulment anytime soon seemed to be out of the question and with the groom was in Texas… Brass's mental cop alarm began to scream.

Hawaii. Honeymoon destination.

Victoria's Secret. Again, honeymoon destination.

He glanced at the report again. There was no plane ticket charge. With a sigh of regret, Brass picked up the phone and ordered Nick's credit cards ran.

_TBC... Thank you for all the reviews, I'll try not to take so long to post the next chapter_


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The sun was hovering half over the horizon as if it didn't want to leave. Sara didn't blame it one bit; it had been a perfect day. She couldn't have asked for a better day or for someone better to have shared it with. Sara glanced over to Nick as he watched the locals light the bon fire. The growing flames alighted his sun-warmed skin and reflected in his eyes. She sighed deeply, contentedly and he turned his head at the sound. She smiled at him before leaning over and kissed him. Lightly scratching his head just above his ear, she looked deeply into his eyes for a long moment. "I'm in love with you," she whispered to him.

The glow in Nick's eyes had nothing to do with the flame of the bon fire. He swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that prickled behind his eyes. "I love you too Sara."

The luau began, they drank frothy pina coloda's, and Nick ate some of the roasted pig while Sara ate vegetable kabobs, chunks of pineapple and passion fruit. The passion fruit Nick teased her about, whispering in her ear that if she got any more passionate he would need a truss. She teased him right back laughingly saying he had better gargle before he kissed her with his roast pig breath. Defying her, he kissed her right then, licking the droplets of passion fruit juices off her lips.

The beat of the Polynesian drums picked up, Sara and Nick broke the kiss to find three men with flaming batons dancing in front of the bon fire.

As the fire dancers moved to the other side of the circle that had formed around the bon fire, several girls in grass skirts moved through the crowd gathered on the sand, volunteering people to come up and join them. Sara recognized the cashier from the gift shop as she came up and grabbed Nick's hand, pulling him to his feet and wrapped a grass skirt around his waist.

Sara laughed until tears streamed down her face watching Nick attempt to hula, and wished for a video camera, so that she could have shared this with Catherine and Warrick.

* * *

"Hawaii? Sara's in Hawaii? With Nick?" 

"Yeah," Brass cleared his throat. "Nick popped for the plane and the hotel. Sara did some shopping," he continued, purposely omitting exactly _where_ Sara had shopped.

Grissom stared, uncomprehending. "Why would they go to Hawaii?"

Brass rubbed his forehead. "Uh," he began and licked his lips. "Look, she was pissed, right?" Grissom nodded solemnly. "Well, you know what they say about a woman scorned."

"I didn't scorn her," Grissom defended himself.

Brass held up a hand like a stop sign. "No, but you pissed her off. She probably just wanted to piss you off, and Nicky was the likely choice. Not as if you'd be jealous if she was in Hawaii with Hodges."

Grissom rolled his eyes. "True. Anything else?"

Brass cocked his head. "Looks like they went to the beach this morning… Nicky bought some towels and sunglasses for them at the hotel gift shop." Brass said, hoping his friend's powers of deduction would be mottled by his emotions and that the skilled CSI wouldn't see he was omitting something. There was no way in hell Brass was about to tell Grissom that the woman he loved had gone to Victoria's Secret and the man with her had bought a box of condoms.

Grissom tossed down the pen in his hand; it landed on the desk with a clatter. After a moment, he stood up.

Brass' eye's narrowed. "Where you going?"

"Home," Grissom said and walked out his office door.

* * *

She was exhausted; barely able to keep her eyes open as Nick's hand gently stroked her spine. Pressed next to him, with her head against his chest, Sara could feel his words reverberating as he spoke, his breath whisping against her ear, dancing through her hair. Lying there, his body was warm; his presence comforting, Sara felt something she never really had before. Safe. 

She matched her breaths with his and let his voice glide over her body as she listened to the love in his voice as he told her about his family.

"That was probably the best Christmas…" Nick's voice trailed off and Sara knew his mind was a thousand miles and years past, reliving the day he'd just finished telling her about. The story sounded like a cross between a _Walton's _reunion and a _Police Academy _movie, and Sara was a bit jealous of Nick's large and loving family. "What was your best one?" Nick asked, and Sara felt the words, didn't really hear them.

"Hmm?" She asked, feeling very cozy and sleepy.

He exhaled out a breathy half laugh. "I asked you what your best Christmas memory is."

"Ummm," Sara mumbled and yawned widely. "One year my foster father got a bonus at work and drove us down to Disneyland. It was practically empty; we hardly had to wait in line for anything."

Nick pulled slightly away from her, just enough so he could look at her. "Sar, what do you mean you 'foster father'?"

And suddenly, Sara was wide-awake.

* * *

"Hawaii? Nick's in Hawaii? With Sara?" Warrick's disbelief seeped into his voice. 

"They're…" Catherine ran a hand through her hair; the lifted strands caught the rays of the dawning sun streaming through her living room windows. "On their honeymoon," she finished quietly.

"Well I'll be damned. He finally did it," Warrick said in awe of his friend.

"Did what?" Catherine questioned as she sat down on the sofa next to him, curling her feet under herself. She took Warrick's arm off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her own shoulders.

"Com'on Cath, Nicky's been in love with Sara for over a year now. Looks like he finally _did_ something about it."

Catherine put a hand on his chest and pushed herself up. "What?" she asked, giggling with the thought.

"Yeah, he hid it well." Warrick used the arm around her shoulders and pulled her back down. "I don't think he even admitted it to himself for a long time."

"How'd you find out?" Cath asked, and felt Warrick's shrug underneath her.

"He's my friend, I saw the way he looked at her, how he treated her. I'd known for a long time…" he took a deep breath. "But Nick got drunk that night Kelly Gordon killed herself, and finally told me."

"Ah, yes," Catherine sighed at the memory of nursing both men's hangovers the next day. "So," she began again after a moment, "are you pissed he lied to you about having to go to Texas?"

Warrick shrugged again, taking stock of his emotional reaction. "Nah, I'm sure he's planning on confessing when he gets back. Especially if they've both got the tan's I think they're gonna have, he'll have to confess."

Catherine thought she detected a slight wisp of something in his voice. "Jealous?"

"What?" He cocked his head trying to see her face, to gage if she was joking or not.

"Are you jealous he's in Hawaii with a beautiful woman?"

Warrick paused before he answered, formulating the right words. "Of Hawaii, maybe. But," he said and wrapped his arm tighter, pulling her into his lap where he could look her dead in the eye. "I've got the most beautiful woman in the world right here."

* * *

Sara took a deep breath, and wondered if her last moment of happiness had passed without her noticing. She couldn't even look him in the eye. "I was in foster care because… Nick," she said and breathed again, hoping he would tell her to never mind, it didn't matter what had happened so long ago. "My mother stabbed my father. Killed him. She went into prison, I went into the system." She swallowed hard, exhaled a deep, wet breath, and waited. 

Nick was watching her face as she told him, felt her breath rush over his skin when she was done. He felt her tremble slightly as she waited for him to absorb her words, take in their full meaning.

Sara raked her teeth over her bottom lip, chewing on it absently as she waited for Nick's reaction to the fact that she was the daughter of a murderer. Her eyes searched wildly for something to focus on, and she felt the give of the mattress, as Nick shifted his body. _This is it_ Sara's mind whimpered. _He's leaving._

So it was with surprise and relief when instead of climbing out of the bed, Nick pulled her closer, his arms wrapping tightly around her, as if she was hanging off the edge of a building and he was her only ally against gravity.

"Oh, baby," he whispered into her ear. "I'm so sorry that you had to live through that."

Sara's mouth opened a bit in her shock. He wasn't leaving. He was holding her. Not just her hand, as the social worker had, as her foster mother had. As Grissom had, He held all of her, as if he wanted to take some of her pain for himself. He held her, and he let her cry.

TBC ...

a/n: Thank you for the reviews, (even the one that wasn't very pleased with the last chapter) Happy Holidays to you all, I'll post the next chapter soon. Sunset


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Sara talked until rays of dim sunlight began to peek through the horizon. She told Nick things she'd never told anyone, some things she hadn't thought of in years. Like the fat orange cat that she'd held on her lap the first three days after her father died, or the dripping faucet of her foster mothers kitchen sink. The more she talked, the more that came back to her, and she just let it pour out. And the entire time, Nick sat in rapt attention; hanging on every word she spoke.

When rays of dawn began to seep through the patio blinds, Sara yawned widely, exhausted and completely drained, and yet thoroughly at peace. She fell into an easy sleep, with dreams uninhibited by blood.

Nick watched her sleep, and after a few moments, used his fingers to gently comb away errant strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes. Sunlight hit his eyes, and he looked up to see the sun rising. Glancing back down to Sara and the slight dream smile that curved her lips, he knew it truly was a new day.

--

The streetlamp threw a muted circle of light onto Grissom's SUV, as he sat behind the wheel in his driveway. He stared at the closed garage door, mentally kicking himself. He should have told the Minnesota cops no. He should have remembered to plan a honeymoon. He should have been nicer to Sara when she came home. There were so many things he should have done.

Headlights swept over him, making him blink and forcing him from of his thoughts. His neighbor's teenage daughter arriving home in her boyfriends beat up Toyota. The brakes squealed; as did the girl as she hoped out of the car and jogged over to the driver's side leaning down to give her boyfriend one last kiss goodnight.

Her long brown hair glowed even darker in the moonlight, reminding him of Sara. Grissom felt the stab of profound longing for the woman he let down.

As the teenage girl turned and took a few steps toward her front door, Grissom's truck caught her eye. Stopping in mid step, she stared at the truck warily. Lifting an impressed eyebrow at her caution, Grissom opened the driver's side door, the dome light filling the cab, bring him into full view. He lifted a hand in greeting to the girl, and after a moment she waved back, turned and blew a kiss to the boy behind the wheel of the Toyota and dashed into her houseSelf-doubt had always weighed heavy on Grissom, heavier than any unsolved case had, and now as he unlocked his front door, his back and shoulders ached with the tension of disbelief.

Grissom closed the door behind him, and listened to the silence. It had at one time been his saving grace; open arms welcoming him home after the ad nauseam noise and nescience politics of the lab. Now the silence was only lonely, as if the very walls and furnishings were in mourning for the life they once held. Letting his head fall backwards, Grissom sighed deeply, trying to think about how to fix his relationship with Sara.

When the answer didn't reveal itself, Grissom righted his head and tightly clutched the keys in his hand before tossing them onto the table in the entryway. He pitched them harder than he had intended, and the keys slid across the table, skidding into the sunglasses Sara had left behind.

His throat tightened up, and Grissom grabbed the sunglasses, clutching them to his chest with both hands.

Nick had bought her a new pair, Brass had told him.

They'd gone to the beach.

Nick and Sara were in Hawaii.

The thoughts hit him like a barrage of bullets, and Grissom finally understood.

And just like that, the answer revealed itself.

Grissom straightened his shoulders, cleared his throat and pulled his cell phone out, punching one of his speed dial buttons.

"Cath," he said into the phone, "You're in charge. I'm going after her."

--

Sara's footsteps were lighter. Her whole body felt lighter, as if she'd shrugged off a thick, tight fitting jacket and had tossed it aside.

Nick had made her a reservation at the hotels day spa, "Not that you need it," he had teased and cupped her chin gently. He had only wanted to treat her to something "special". And so she found herself entering the spa tucked into the corner of the lobby, where something Nick had called "the whole treatment" awaited her.

"Hello Mrs. Stokes," the receptionist greeted before Sara announced herself. Sara turned around, wondering what on Earth Nick's mother was doing in Hawaii.

"Mrs. Stokes, is everything alright?" The receptionist questioned, and Sara at once realized that _she_ was Mrs. Stokes.

Grinning brightly Sara turned back around, suppressing only just enough of a giggle so that she wouldn't appear insane. "Yes, everything's just fine."

--

Catherine clicked her phone closed at stared at it.

The silence that followed caught Hodges attention, and he looked up from his microscope. "What's up?"

Catherine changed the direction of her stare from the cell in her hand to the lab tech a few feet away. Her brain was running a hundred miles a minute. Everything from wanting Grissom to be happy and remembering how much in love Sara had been with Gil, and could she have possibly changed her mind and her heart so quickly? And what about Nicky, Cath wondered; would he be devastated if Sara choose Grissom? It was always possible Warrick was wrong about the profoundness of Nick's feelings for Sara, but highly doubtful. And if she were this conflicted, just as a bystander, what in hell was Sara going to go through?

All these thoughts flew through Catherine's mind as she stared at Hodges.

"Catherine?" Hodges asked skeptically. "Is something wrong?"

Cath blinked. _Don't say anything_, she reminded herself, _not to anyone, but_ especially _not to Hodges._

"No," she finally spoke and slipped her phone back in her pocket as she turned to leave. "Nothing at all," she slipped through the doorway and went to find Warrick.

--

"You can put those down anywhere," Nick told the beefy man holding six plastic shopping bags.

As the man made his way over and gently set the bags on the bed, Nick cocked his head just a bit. "Leslie, right?"

The Hawaiian smiled brightly. "Yeah man, nice that you remembered." He gestured to the bags on the bedspread. "You're planning something special, huh?"

"Yeah," Nick grinned. "Real special."

"Well," Leslie said as he crossed to the door and let himself out, "Good luck to you."

"Thanks," Nick said just as the door closed. He turned his attention to the bags on the bed, and began unloading them. Looking around the room, he wondered where to begin.

--

_You're soaking in it._ Just what the 'it' was, Sara couldn't remember, but she did recall the line from a commercial, and it played over and over again in her head.

Her fingertips flicked around in the bowl of liquid they sat in, and she curled her toes in the miniature whirlpool tub _they_ were in. Taking a deep breath, she re-arranged her shoulders, and tried to relax, but it just wasn't easy. Besides not being able to move her arms or legs, she had green glop on her face, drying and making her nose itch. Her scalp was sore from the tug of the brush and the tight rollers that now set upon her head making her look more like a Martian than her sixth grade Halloween costume had.

"Mrs. Stokes?"

"Hmmm?" Sara answered, not really able to open her mouth against the dried glop of the facemask. She had quickly gotten used to her new name, and found she liked it. A lot.

"What color would you like?"

Sara straightened up a bit and opened her eyes. The manicurist held up two bottles of polish, a light peachy color and a deep red one. Sara's eyes danced and she pointed directly to the red.

--

Grissom stared at the woman behind the ticket counter, trying to force her to type faster. According to her badge, her name was Amanda. "I'm sorry, Dr Grissom," she glanced up from the screen, "the only flight we have any open seats on doesn't leave until 2:15 this afternoon."

"What time does that put me in Honolulu?" Grissom asked, hoping it was before Sara would spend one more night with Stokes.

"Well," Amanda glanced down at her screen and clicked a few more keyboard buttons. "There's a stop over in Los Angeles…Oh," she glanced up again, sensing Grissom's urgency and she didn't want to deliver this news. "The flight from LA doesn't land in Honolulu until tomorrow morning."

Grissom sighed deeply and pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket. The backs of his fingers brushed against Sara's sunglasses, and determination flooded his chest. He wanted her back.

--

Nick picked a speck of lint off his pant leg and looked around the room, double-checking. He held his hands up in front of him, fingers splayed, thumbs touching, forming a frame, and tried to see the room how Sara would see it when she walked in. For a moment, he wondered if he'd gone to far…then he shook his head no. There was no such thing as to far on a night like tonight.

Everything was perfect and his chest swelled with pride that he had pulled this off. At least so far. There was nothing left to do but wait for Sara.

Running a palm over his head, he could feel tiny droplets of sweat. He rubbed his palms together to dry them, and to have something to do, his nervous energy was bubbling up with every click of the clock.

After another few minutes, he began bouncing on the balls of his feet, when he heard Sara's voice, lightly singing to herself in the hallway. Rushing to the door, he opened it before she got her key in the lock.

She blinked at him in surprise, and Nick was awestruck at her beauty. His idea for the trip to the spa had just been a way of getting her out of the suite for a while, leaving him time to get ready, but it had pleasant results he hadn't expected.

"Hey," she said, surprised at his sudden appearance at the door.

"You're beautiful," he told her.

"Thanks," she said shyly and ran a hand through her hair. "You know, I kind of _feel_ beautiful."

Nick still stood in the doorway, blocking her from entering the room, and she realized he was wearing a black suit and a bright violet necktie. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Whatcha doin' Nicky?"

"Oh," he said and rubbed his palms on his pant legs. He glanced behind him one last time, giving the room another once over glance. "I, ah, I have a surprise for you," he said and finally stepped out of the doorway.

Sara stepped in to the room, and Nick watched her face as he shut the door behind her.

It was Sara's turn to be awestruck. The lights were out, but lit candles sat on every possible surface of the room, there had to be a hundred of them, she thought. The room glowed warm and dazzling in the candlelight.

She turned to Nick and tucked her fingers under the lapel of his jacket. "You've had a busy day."

Nick grinned and looked shyly toward the floor. "Nah, not really. I just wanted to do something nice for you."

Sara chuckled and gestured widely toward the room. Bouquets of wild flowers stood tucked into each corner, and the table had been covered by a crisp white tablecloth and set for two with silver dinnerware and stemmed crystal wine goblets. "Nicky!" she gasped, "This is more than 'something nice'."

"Well…" Nick said, a little embarrassed, and thoroughly nervous. _No time like the present_ he told himself and took Sara by the hand, leading her to the dinner table. She sat down, still facing him and folded her hands in her lap. She could tell something was up, nervous energy rolled off him in waves.

Nick wiped his palms on his pant legs again and kneeled in front of her.

"Oh my God," Sara gasped.

Nick grinned, happy the surprise worked. "Sar… I've loved you in secret for far too long now. I want the whole world to know." He swallowed hard. "Sara, would you marry me?"

"But Nicky, we're alrea-"

"No," Nick quickly cut her off. "During that ceremony, you thought you were marrying him… I want you to marry _me_."

_TBC…_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Sara's mouth opened to answer, her throat worked as if forming words, but no sound came. She snapped her betraying lips shut quickly.

Nick swallowed hard in his anxiety. He licked his lips, glanced away, glanced back.

Sara cleared her throat, took a deep breath, tried again.

"Yes!" she said. "Of course I'll marry you."

Nick's face broke into a huge, very relieved grin. He reached inside his suit pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. With his eyes on Sara's face, he lifted the lid, revealing the solitaire one-karat diamond platinum ring.

"Oh my God," Sara's voice was barely a whisper, one tear slipped down her cheek as Nick slipped the ring onto her finger.

* * *

Gil Grissom sighed deeply at checked his watch. 2:30. Was that 2:30 Las Vegas time, or 2:30 California time? Had he set his watch for Pacific Time yet or not? He shook his head at his own confusion, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell had become of him. 

"It's LA time," said a female voice from across the isle.

It took Grissom a moment to realize she was speaking to him. He glanced over his shoulder to the woman in the seat across the isle, smiling at him. "I'm sorry?"

"I noticed you set your watch as soon as you boarded…" she smiled pleasantly and swept her dark blonde hair from off her shoulder. "Bad habit of mine, noticing."

Grissom thought she seemed to be apologizing. "Not at all," he said and her knitted brow told him he had guessed wrong. "It's not a bad habit at all," he explained, quickly recovering. "It's how I make a living."

"Really?" she said and tucked her fingers under her chin, leaning in closer toward him. "What do you do?"

* * *

Long after the candles had extinguished themselves and the untouched dinner plates had grown cold; pale rays of the early dawn poured in from the balcony window across the bed and over two very sleepy people trying very hard not to succumb; trying to stretch these moments, these precious moments that would never, ever come again no matter the path their lives took. 

Whispering to each other in between yawns and silent pauses where sleep almost triumphed, they shared thoughts and wishes of what their lives together might bring them.

"What do you want Sara?"

She sighed deeply and blinked several times, willing her eyes to stay open as she snuggled deeper in to the crook between his neck and shoulder. "I want," she paused to force her brain to function. "I want to get stuck in snowy Christmas traffic with you when we go visit your parents. I want to spend long lazy Sunday afternoons in bed with you. I want to worry about you when you come home late." Nick's breathing became deep and even as she spoke. "I want to have crazy monkey sex in each one of the morgue drawers."

He didn't respond.

"With Hodges," she added, gigging.

It took him a second. "What?"

Sara laughed, "Just wanted to know if you were still awake."

"I am now," he said and shifted his body slightly, pulling her closer. "What about kids?"

Sara, who had never had really felt the pangs of maternal longing, and had never even considered the possibility of having a child with Grissom, now suddenly realized that it might not be so bad. "Yeah," she said quietly under the weight of the realization, "I think I do."

They were silent as each thought about the child their combined DNA would create. "One thing's for sure, he'll be the smartest kid in school," Sara said.

"Athletic and handsome, with a suburb aptitude for science," Nick continued as if filling out an order form for God.

"Win all the Science Fairs," Sara added.

"He'll probably start bring home bugs when he's two," Nick said and immediately wished he hadn't mentioned bugs.

Sara's body stiffened just for a moment before she caught it and made herself relax. She ignored the comment, lifted her chin kissing him lightly on the lips and rolled over on to her other side, her back to him.

_Damn it Stokes_ Nick thought to himself. _You should have said lizards. _He moved his arm, gently resting his hand on Sara's thigh.

Her arm moved in response, reaching back behind her, her fingertips finding his wrist and slowly moving down until she intertwined her fingers with his. It was her left hand, and he could feel the weight of the engagement ring. Nick slid his other arm underneath her, wrapping it around her waist.

They each fell into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of Science Fair blue ribbons, baseball trophies and a little boy with big brown eyes and shaggy chestnut hair.

* * *

The blonde woman on Grissom's flight was Renee Taylor, and, as it turned out, she happened to be flying to Hawaii with a layover in LA as well. 

They sat in a corner of a bar in the nearly deserted LAX, a bored bartender idly wiping down the bar with a rag that looked like it had last been washed sometime around World War II.

Grissom sipped his gin and tonic as he talked. He found himself repeating the same stories he'd told Mike the cab driver on the ride back to Vegas. Grissom stared into his glass and shook his head slowly. It wasn't so long ago when everything was good; Sara had been his, and all had been right with the world. _Boy Gil, when you screw up, you really screw up._

Renee leaned into the table, her weight on her elbows, absently twirling her finger around the red stir stick in her own dink. She watched him pull into himself, and wondered, not for the first time, what he was thinking about.

"So," she said in an attempt to draw him back out and continue the conversation, "seminar?"

Grissom blinked and looked up. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you headed to Hawaii for a seminar?"

"Um." He swallowed. The one difference between the stories he'd told Mike during that cab ride and what he'd told Renee over his gin and tonic was the depth of his reminiscing about Sara. "Um," he repeated, "no."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, a silent _Go on_.

He took a deep breath, "I'm headed to breakup a honeymoon."

She was surprised to say the least.

He told her about his and Sara's romance, the joy and the annoyance of keeping it a secret. She sat back in the chair.

He told her about the proposal, the wedding decisions, about his leaving for Minnesota. She crossed her arms over her chest.

He told her about the snowstorm, the proxy groom idea, and how no one had bothered to mention it to the minister, resulting in his Sara becoming Mrs. Stokes. She put her fingers to her lips in an attempt to hide a small smile.

He told her he was an ass, that he didn't go after to Sara when she ran, that he made idiotic accusations when she came home and how only Brass was smart enough to run her credit cards and found her…_them_ in Hawaii.

Having reached the end of the story, Grissom was quiet and slugged back the rest of his drink, signaling the bartender for another with a wave of his arm.

Renee stared into her own drink; two ice cubes floating in the amber liquid, tinkled against the short glass, as she absorbed all that he had just told her. After a few moments she said "And now you're going to Hawaii to break up their honeymoon and get her back?" She didn't look up and meet Grissom's eyes.

"That's correct," Grissom answered, reaching up to take the drink from the bored bartender even before the man was near the table.

* * *

The bed was empty when Nick woke up. He sat up quickly, and ran his palm over Sara's side of the bed; it was cool to the touch. She'd risen long ago enough that her body heat had dissipated from the sheets. Putting his feet on the floor, he got out of bed and surveyed the room. The shopping bags from Victoria's Secret still laid upon the chest of drawers, and the copy of Vanity Fair she'd bought at the Vegas airport sat underneath her sunglasses. And the unopened bag of banana chips lay on top of the devoured bag of mini Snickers, most of which Sara had eaten. Then something out of place caught his eye. The phone cord was stretched out across the carpet, leading out onto the balcony, where, he suddenly realized, the drapes had been drawn. 

Sara sat on the balcony, the phone sitting on the table next to her. She shaded her eyes and smiled brightly at him as he pulled back the edge of the drapes and slid the door open. "Good morning," she greeted and hoped up throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him lightly on the mouth.

"Morning. How long have you been up?"

Sara shrugged and sat back down. "An hour maybe."

Nick pointed at the phone with his chin as he sat. "Who'd you call?"

Sara grinned at him over the table and offending phone. "You're not the only one with a surprise."

* * *

"Aloha, and thank you for flying Paradise Air," the short stewardess said to Grissom as he passed her as he disembarked. He was still fighting off the fog of not enough sleep, uncomfortable or not, and could only think of making his way through the airport to the outside, finding a taxi, and getting to Sara. 

"Gil…?" A voice broke through his concentration and he was half way down the boarding ramp before he turned around to see Renee waving and jogging to catch up with him.

"Renee, I'm…" he began

"In a hurry, I know. But," she reached into her purse and pulled out a business card, handing it to him. "I wanted you to have this. A girl can't hear a story like the one you told me and not hear the ending. You call and tell me the rest, or I'll be wondering the rest of my life."

Grissom took the card and smiled at her as he slipped it into his pocket next to his wallet. "All right."

* * *

They could hear the knock on the door even over the spray of the shower and their giggling. "I'll get it," Nick said chivalrously and wrapped a towel around his waist before he padded out of the bathroom toward the door. Rubbing his hair with a different towel he opened the door with his other hand. 

"Hello Nick," Grissom said.

Nick moved the towel away from his head thinking his ears must be playing ticks on him, it couldn't be… but it was. Gil Grissom stood in the doorway of his honeymoon suite.

"Where's Sara?" Grissom asked.

Before Nick could answer, Sara began to sing, "_Oh baby do you know what that's worth, oooo heaven is a place on Earth."_

And Grissom put a quick two and two together realizing his worst fears had materialized.

Ever since Brass had told him they were in Hawaii, Grissom kept telling himself it was possible that Nick had merely accompanied Sara; being the proverbial the shoulder she had needed to cry on. They were sharing a room, yes, but a room with twin beds.

Looking past Nick, Grissom saw a queen bed with rumpled sheets and a dripping wet Nick Stokes obviously straight out of an interrupted shower, a shower Sara was obviously still in.

Evidence doesn't lie.

Grissom swallowed hard, and lifted his chin determinedly.

Both men heard the shower shut off, Nick turned away, leaving the door open and headed for the bathroom. "Sar," he said softly as he opened the bathroom door. "Grissom's here."

"Who?" She asked, and might as well have shot a bullet into Grissom. The bathroom sink faucet shut off and Sara repeated, "I'm sorry Honey, I didn't hear you."

"I said, Grissom's here." Nick said, his voice low, and deflated.

And suddenly, there she was, in the bathroom doorway, looking confused, mad, surprised, and maybe, _just maybe_, a little happy to see him.

"What're you doing here?"

"I came for you." Grissom inclined his head toward the hall. "Can we talk?"

Nick sat silently on the bed as Sara got quickly dressed and met Grissom at the doorway. She turned to look at him just as she closed the door behind her and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

And then she was gone.

It was a few minutes before Nick made his way onto the balcony and leaned against the railing. As he watched the waves blanket the shore then quickly retreat, his mind drifted over the past few days. She'd been happy, hadn't she? He'd been so sure she'd fallen in love with him, surely her accepting his proposal hadn't been an act of revenge against Grissom.

People moved across the sand, tourists, families, locals; the beach swarmed with bodies, people laughing and playing in the ocean, people just as happy as he had been just a few minutes ago.

He was suddenly very tired and truly amazed at how things can change so quickly by a surprise visitor.

A surprise.

He sat down in the chair Sara had been sitting in earlier and looked at the phone still perched on the table.

"_You're not the only one with a surprise."_

No. She couldn't have. Even if Nick had wanted to believe it, there was no way Sara could have called Grissom and he'd show up less than an hour later. It wasn't possible, and besides, he told himself, she _wouldn't _have called him.

Nick looked out onto the beach again, and saw them. Both out of place, Sara in her jeans and Grissom out of place on a beach no matter what he was wearing. As he watched, Nick read their body language. They stood face-to-face, Grissom's hands moved about in the air as he spoke and Sara had her arms crossed over her chest; that was good. But then, Grissom's hand stopped suddenly and dropped to his sides. Sara's stance relaxed, her arms unfolding, one hand moving toward Grissom's shoulder.

As he watched, Nick's wife and fiancé kissed the cheek of another man.

He couldn't watch anymore. Nick went back into the room, sat on the bed, and waited for the inevitable.

About ten minutes later Sara came back into the room and sat gently down on the bed next to him. "Hey," she said gently.

"Hey," he answered and swallowed hard, steeling himself.

"Griss said to tell you goodbye."

Nick glanced over at her. "Goodbye?"

"Yeah, he's headed back to the airport, catch the next plane home."

"Are you… are you going to meet him there?" Nick asked, and glanced away, even though his mind was screaming at him to stop.

Sara's brow furrowed with confusion. "Meet him…? We'll see him when we go back to work."

_We. She said 'we'._ "Sar, I don't… I don't understand." His mind was screaming _shut up you idiot, shut up._

She reached up with one hand, turning his face toward her. "I was going to tell him that I while I would always love him, I'm _in love_ with you, but I didn't have to. He did all the talking, said that he had flown here intending to get me back, but when he heard me singing in the shower, he realized that he had never made me that happy. So he's going back to Vegas."

"But…" Nick stammered, "your surprise…" He pointed behind them toward the balcony and the phone.

Sara's gaze followed and she realized what he was talking about. "Oh my God." She jumped up and looked at her watch. "I almost forgot, but we still have time, hurry up and get dressed."

* * *

It was a hike. Sara's surprise turned out to be a hike through twisted vines and trees. Beautiful yes, but not exactly what he had the energy for after little sleep and a very brief but intense half hour when he thought he was losing the love of his life. 

"Almost there," the guide called back over his shoulder, and a few minutes later the jungle opened up to a clearing, in the middle of which sat the most beautiful waterfall Nick had ever seen.

Leslie, the larger than life room service waiter and the cashier from the gift shop, whose name was Cassie, were both waiting for them when they arrived. Cassie was bouncing on her toes and Leslie clapped Nick on the back.

Nick thought it a bit odd that people from the hotel were there, seemingly waiting on them and glanced over at Sara. "Hon, what're we doing here?"

"Getting married," she said simply.

"Huh?"

Sara stopped walking. "This morning, I called Cassie and explained that we wanted to get married. She told me about this place, and I thought it was perfect. Cassie arranged the whole thing for us."

"There's a path that leads behind the waterfall." Cassie grinned and continued to bounce on her toes.

"Who's going to…"

"Me." Leslie spoke up. "I'm an ordained minister."

Nick blinked.

"Nick…" Sara put a hand on his chest, "this is ok, isn't it?"

He blinked again and looked at her. "Damn right, let's do it."

* * *

The sun streamed through the cascade of water, bathing them in streams of soft light, as droplets of spray tickled their skin. Cassie had made a halo of pink roses for Sara to wear, and Nick thought she looked angelic. 

Leslie stood in front of them, holding an open copy of the Bible, he was so big, the book looked like it belonged in a dollhouse.

"Do you, Sara, take this man to be your lawful husband? To love, honor and cherish, till death do you part?"

Sara gazed at Nick. "I do."

"And do you Gill Grissom…"

Both Nick and Sara turned at stared at Leslie.

The big man threw his head back and laughed. "Sorry dude," he reached over and clapped Nick on the shoulder again, "She told us the whole story, I had to say it."

Sara cocked an eyebrow in a way that Nick knew for a fact could force even the most hardened criminal into confessing.

Leslie cleared his throat. "Just a joke. Sorry." He straightened himself up. "And do you, _Nick_ take this woman as your lawful wife? To love, honor and cherish, till death do you part?"

"I do." Nick said with a smile.

And they lived happily ever after….

Fin

* * *

a/n: Thank you so much for your reviews, your patience and your prodding. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sunset


End file.
